Ulysses
by Admiral Byzantium
Summary: An alternative to Endgame: "I promised myself I'd never let myself get caught up in one of these Godforsaken paradoxes. The future is the past, the past is the future... It all gives me a headache." **Updated with new short story.**
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Trek Universe, or any of the characters from it. It all belongs to Gene Roddenberry as far as I'm concerned, then whoever owns the copyright rights. I'm merely an amateur playing in it for my own amusement because the guys who did it for money just didn't get it right.**  
**

**Ulysses**  
Admiral Byzantium

"To strive, to seek, to find and not to yield."  
-_Ulysses_, Alfred Tennyson

**Prologue**

Since the beginning of the Dominion War, Captain Robert DeSoto had become increasingly uncomfortable before attending classified briefings. Now entering his twenty-fifth year in command of the _USS Hood_, DeSoto was not unfamiliar with combat situations, but he found these briefings constantly preceded being thrown off the deep end into combat engagements that he would have preferred to avoid. One briefing introduced him to Operation Return, where his beloved starship was nearly torn to pieces by a pair of Jem'Hadar cruisers – the _Hood _had destroyed one, but only the timely intervention of the _IKS Rotarran _had prevented her destruction that day. In another, Admiral Ross and Captain Sisko had briefed him about their planned final thrust into Dominion-held Cardassia, where the _Hood _found herself in a crossfire between the collapsing Romulan lines and the Breen and Dominion ships which had found their way into close range – a space-age equivalent of a knife fight, not something the old Excelsior-class _Hood_ excelled at.

The only briefing that DeSoto thought back upon with appreciation was the one preceding the massacre at the Second Battle of Chin'toka. Admiral Ross had steadfastly refused to allow DeSoto to take his damaged cruiser into combat, instead leaving the _Hood_ behind to command the small force defending Deep Space 9. While he had argued vehemently that a crippled _Hood _was as good as any warship, Ross had been insistent, and in the end had saved DeSoto's ship, if not his life.

But this was the first time DeSoto had been called to a high-level classified briefing in three years, and he was concerned. Not because he didn't want to take his ship back into another desperate combat situation, although he wasn't keen on turning the _Hood _into a burning hulk again, but because he shouldn't be attending one of these things.

_The war is over, damn it. It's been over for three years, and we haven't heard so much as a peep from the Gamma Quadrant, or the Breen, or even the damn Romulans. What the hell is going on? _DeSoto wouldn't even be on Earth, but he was overseeing a major refit and rebuild of the _Hood_ – when they were done, the fifty-year old starship would have enough firepower to take on Jean-Luc's _Enterprise._

The location of the briefing was almost as unusual as the fact that it was taking place at all – DeSoto had been called from Utopia Planitia on Mars to San Francisco, but not to Starfleet Command. A light cover of rain misted the sky as DeSoto strode through the front door of the Communications Research Center. He'd never been to this building – never had a need to be here – and he wasn't sure why a classified briefing would be taking place in Starfleet's primary long-range communications research facility. Then again, he was the one who had turned down repeated promotions to Admiral. If he'd really wanted to know, he could have accepted the promotion. _I suppose that's the price you pay for wanting to stay on the bridge of a starship. You have to listen to the brass, no matter how ridiculous the orders seem, and they never tell you anything important until the last minute._

"Captain DeSoto?" The voice was warm and familiar, and DeSoto recognized it immediately. He turned back towards the entrance and was faced with three grey-on-black Starfleet uniforms, men he knew at once. The speaker was Will Riker, a man who had served as his first officer on the _Hood _for several years before transferring to the _Enterprise_. Aside Riker was his commanding officer, Captain Picard. On Picard's left was another Captain, Charles Reynolds of the _Centaur._ He wasn't sure what Picard was doing here, since as far as he knew as the _Enterprise _was on assignment, but Reynolds and he had spent some time together the last few weeks – the first _Centaur _had been destroyed by the Breen at Second Chin'toka, and Reynolds was overseeing the construction of a new Akira-class ship of the same name at Utopia Planitia.

"Will! Charlie, Jean-Luc. Are you here for the same reason I am?" DeSoto extended his hand, clasping Riker's in a firm handshake, before turning to acknowledge Picard.

"I suspect that we are, although I also suspect that we don't have any more specifics than you do yourself, Robert," Picard said, releasing DeSoto's hand. All of them turned and continued towards the turbolift. Reynolds opened his mouth to say something more, but all four of them stopped as the turbolift doors opened, allowing a man in an engineer's uniform with lieutenant's pips to emerge.

"Will! Oh… oh I mean Commander Riker. Captain Picard! Oh, you're here. Oh, oh good. This way, Sirs. There's something you need to see at Project Pathfinder. Yes, we have to hurry, Captains, oh, and Commander." Riker's face twisted into a wry smile and turned, meeting Picard's eyes. The two of them shared a glance as the party moved into the turbolift.

"Maybe you'd better start explaining, Mr. Barclay, what exactly was so important to call the _Enterprise _back to Earth on such short notice, and take Captains DeSoto and Reynolds away from their ships," Jean-Luc said wryly.

"Oh, sir, I wish I could, but it's classified, you understand, I'm not allowed to speak to anyone about it, not yet." Barclay stuttered, clearly uncomfortable. "You'll… you'll be told in just a minute. In fact, I believe Admirals Paris and Hayes are waiting upstairs to fill you in, but I'm… I don't have a high enough clearance to even know what I know… I can't possibly tell anyone else what I know. I'm not permitted." Barclay suddenly lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, staring at Riker's shoes while his own twisted uncomfortably. "Don't… don't worry," Barclay said, still looking downward. "Admiral Paris will fill you in."

_Who is this guy, and if he doesn't have a high enough clearance to know what he apparently knows, then how the hell does he know? _DeSoto was uncomfortable enough being away from his ship, much less being in a situation where he was in a turbolift with a stuttering engineer who was either completely crazy or completely socially inept. _Probably both._ The lift stopped, and Barclay started forward before the doors were even open. The officers behind him had to accelerate their pace to keep up. DeSoto caught Riker's eye, but Will waved him off and mouthed that he'd explain about the eccentric lieutenant at another time. Riker caught the door, oddly not a typical sliding door, as it shut behind Barclay, who was now at least three paces ahead. DeSoto walked in first, noting the emblem of the Pathfinder Project on the door before coming face to face with two Admirals and one shattered looking Commander, as well as Lieutenant Barclay.

"Picard, DeSoto, Reynolds, good…" Hayes muttered as they entered. He wasted no time with pleasantries. "Gentlemen, welcome to Project Pathfinder. You happened to be senior and convenient, as well as battle-hardened, and you have to understand that nothing I say goes outside of this room. This is an official Starfleet briefing, and this briefing is classified. What you are going to hear is not to go outside this room until Starfleet decides to release the information to the fleet at large. Am I understood?" The officers nodded, and Admiral Hayes let out a breath. "Admiral Paris, Commander Harkins, I'm turning this briefing over to you."

Admiral Paris didn't say anything, merely nodded at Commander Harkins. Harkins also said nothing, but he turned around and punched in a security code to the computer terminal behind underneath the viewer. The viewscreen was silent for an instant, and the silence filled the room. Paris turned away, apparently unable, or unwilling, to watch this for a second time. Barclay looked distraught. Then the instant was gone, and the screen came back to life. On it appeared a bridge, darkened with battle damage and glowing red as the red-alert status lights pulsed. It was scarred, large gaping holes blown through the back of the bridge. The woman on the viewscreen looked haggard, and was wearing the old red and black uniform of a command officer.

"Project Pathfinder, the following transmission is to be classified. Remove any non-essential personnel from the room." Her voice was husky and dark, and DeSoto heard Riker gasp quietly. "Kathryn Janeway?" he murmured. DeSoto took a second to glance at Riker as Janeway fell silent, waiting for her command to be followed, but Will said nothing more. Harkins punched another button on the console, and the recording jumped forward.

Janeway had turned away from the viewscreen and was pacing across the bridge of what DeSoto now recognized to be an Intrepid-class starship. _Captain Janeway? The ship lost in the Delta Quadrant, right? _On the recording, Janeway stopped suddenly, shook herself, and turned back to the viewer. "Starfleet Command, if the room is not yet cleared of all non-essential personnel, then pause this recording." She paused again. "Admiral Paris, I regret to inform you that if you are receiving this message, then in all likelihood my entire crew and I are dead. We constructed an automated beacon and recorded this message in order to ensure Starfleet Command would be aware of our fate. It should avoid detection long enough to fulfill its mission."

DeSoto looked up at this woman. Her bridge was a wreck, and her uniform was torn and tattered, but she still radiated an inner strength that he recognized, even over subspace. "Admiral, two weeks ago _Voyager _detected a huge number of Borg transwarp signatures, along the lines of forty to fifty full size Borg tactical cubes. It did not take us long to track them to a nebula not far from the location of this transmission beacon, and we discovered a Borg transwarp hub – one with Alpha Quadrant exit apertures. With this hub active, the collective has the capability to land a full size invasion fleet it the middle of Federation territory with little or no warning. Why the Borg did not utilize it during their previous assault on Earth via Wolf 359, I do not know, but at this point it is, as they say, irrelevant. Using Borg transceivers from former drones, my crew and I were able to collect intelligence on the collective's activities and learn that the Borg were planning a full scale invasion of the Federation sometime in the following days. The cubes we detected were designated to come out of transwarp at Wolf 359 and proceed directly to Earth. Their orders were to assimilate the planet if possible, but destroy it at any cost."

The officers in the room were dead silent. Picard had inhaled sharply when Janeway had first mentioned the massive number of cubes, but had been quiet ever since.

"We had no time to wait and get a message to Starfleet Command. _Voyager _attacked the Borg transwarp hub using a specially designed virus and our own conventional weapons. Through the sacrifice of a young man by the name of Icheb, who allowed himself to be assimilated in order to infect the hub with a pathogen specifically designed to combat the Borg, _Voyager_ was able to destroy the transwarp hub and prevented the immediate invasion of the Alpha Quadrant." A small, sad smile came across her face. "I officially nominate Cadet Icheb for all the highest awards for valor with which Starfleet can honor his sacrifice." The smile faded. "Icheb disrupted the hub's defense system, and _Voyager_ was able to destroy the hub with conventional weapons and escape barely intact in the ensuing chaos. Admiral Paris, I regret to inform you that the majority of my crew was killed in our attack on the hub, including your son, Lieutenant Paris. The few of us who remain are struggling to ensure that this message beacon successfully transmits to Starfleet Command." She paused for a second. To the right, silent tears ran down Owen Paris' face, as he'd lost the battle with himself and was staring at the viewer, unable to tear his face away.

"We are making this transmission not so that our families know our final fate, but because while we stalled the Borg threat, the collective has not been defeated. Admiral, the Borg have already begun to reconstruct the hub, and although my staff predicts the process will take upwards of twenty years to complete – recovery from the pathogen will require some time and a great deal of caution and the hub itself is little more than wreckage at the moment – once it is operational again there is no way the Federation can prevent the Borg from wreaking havoc inside of the Alpha Quadrant. With the hub they will be able to place vessels at any location in Federation space in a matter of hours. Moreover, Admiral, the Borg have directed the force that was to go through the transwarp hub and assault Earth to head to Federation space using more conventional methods. I believe that the Borg will hold off on any direct combat with the Federation until they have amassed a fleet of enough strength to annihilate the Federation in a single blow – I'd estimate you have ten years, Admiral, at the most. The Borg believe _Voyager_ was destroyed, and while they know we had the ability to communicate with Starfleet Command, I doubt they are aware that we managed to get this message through. The beacon is set to self-destruct as soon as the message is transmitted to ensure the Borg don't discover it."

"Included is all of the data we have on the Borg. Everything we know is there in this transmission and hopefully you can use it to plan some kind of defense against the impending invasion. This is now in your hands, Admiral – _Voyager _and her crew have done all we could. Don't let the Queen win, Sir."

Janeway's command mask finally cracked as she came to the end of her report. A single, solitary tear descended the left side of her face, and she gritted her teeth and wiped it away vigorously with her uniform sleeve.

"Tell our families that we love them, Admiral. Janeway out."

* * *

Admiral DeSoto sat stoically in the command chair he had occupied for forty years. The bridge was silent – a silence which DeSoto had become familiar with during his years of command. It was the same silence that had permeated the bridge of the _Hood _nineteen years before, when Captain Sisko had desperately led six hundred ships against twice their number. _This one's for you, Kathryn Janeway. Thank you for giving us a fighting chance._ DeSoto's sat up, resting his back against the captain's chair. 

The _USS Hood, _accompanied by thirty of Starfleet's finest vessels, made her way under cloak towards what Starfleet Intelligence had eventually dubbed "Galahad Point." _Oh just and faithful knight! _DeSoto thought wryly, _Ride on! The prize is near._

Outside, the silence of space was undisturbed as the ships skated forwards, invisible to sight and sensors alike. But a pair of eyes stayed open, and watched as space shimmered for a second, and then the _Centaur _dropped her cloak and dove into the nebula, howling down towards the battlefield. The other ships followed, armed with time the crew of _Voyager _had bought with their lives.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

Captain Janeway had never been one for turning down a challenge. She had also never been one for losing – together, those qualities had made her intensely competitive. Once she became a starship captain, she had to tune down her competitive nature – captains have to know when to walk away, after all – but it was forever a part of her.

Which is probably why she found herself in the holodeck playing velocity with Seven so often. She knew that, pretty soon, Seven would develop a greater knack for the tactics of the game and start to beat her regularly. Her enhanced reflexes and musculature would eventually overcome Janeway's own wits. That had become the challenge – to see how long she could overcome Seven's advantages with experience.

_So far, so good, _she thought, satisfied, as a mystified Seven of Nine stood on the other end of the holodeck floor. Janeway noted, with no small amount of satisfaction, that she had managed to get the former drone to work up a good sweat this time. She was drenched in perspiration, herself, and knew before Seven said anything what her unofficial astrometrics officer would say and began shaking her head.

"Captain, another match?" Janeway didn't respond, merely turned her back and strode towards the holodeck exit. The doors opened and she exited. "I understand, Captain. After such extensive physical exertion, you must be working at less than peak efficiency. We will play again another time."

Janeway turned her head. "It has nothing to do with my being tired, Seven, although I am. I just know when it's time to quit, is all."

Seven stopped, contemplating the captain's words. "Do you fear that if we play again, you will not be able to prevail?" she asked. Janeway again chose not to respond in words, but let a smirk cross her face as she tossed her towel over her shoulder and entered the turbolift. Seven followed. "Captain, I have another non-recreational issue that I wish to discuss." Janeway raised her head to look up at Seven.

"Yes, Seven? What is it?" she asked. Seven paused before instructing the turbolift to go to Astrometrics. "Seven, I was headed to my quarters to have a bath and find a clean uniform. Can it wait until tomorrow?" Janeway was becoming acutely aware of just how sweaty her shirt had become during their match.

"It is not imperative, although I do believe that you should become aware of any potential issues with our course as soon as possible, Captain."

Janeway sighed slightly. "All right, Seven. But hopefully it will be quick. What exactly is this 'issue'?" The lift doors opened and they walked forward, entering the astrometrics lab. Seven immediately moved to her station and punched in a command. The viewer sparked to life, and Janeway immediately recognized the data on the screen as the course _Voyager_ was currently taking through the Delta Quadrant. Specifically, she noted the highlighted sections of the course as the changes Q had recommended during his last visit to _Voyager_ that Janeway had chosen to follow.

"I was examining the course corrections that Q supplied, and I found some strange anomalies in his selection. Specifically, we have been following a course the last three weeks which was not the most direct route to the Alpha Quadrant." Janeway glanced upwards, and a second line appeared, shifting Voyager's path slightly. "This course would have hastened _Voyager's_ journey by approximately four days."

Janeway shrugged. "Well Seven, being omnipotent, Q knows considerably more about this region of space than either you or I do. Perhaps there were threats in those areas that we don't know about. Or maybe he just didn't want to give us the easiest route home – he does love to play his little games. I doubt that he has put us on a course that he knew would put us in greater danger than we would have found on our own. I suspect his son wouldn't be happy if he got Icheb or his 'Aunt Kathy' killed."

Seven responded with the barest hint of a nod, before turning back to her console. "I was examining Q's future course corrections, and I found something curious. There is a point along our current path, approximately one week ahead of us, where _Voyager_ would make a considerable course adjustment. Looking at computer projections, Q caused us to take twenty percent longer to traverse this region of space. I suspect that Q wants _Voyager_ to pass through these coordinates." She pointed at a location on the screen where there was a rather sharp course deviation.

Janeway looked again at the course, then back at Seven. "I don't know what to tell you, Seven. Q has a reason for everything. He probably has a reason for this too." Her shirt was beginning to dry, and she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. "If that is all, Seven, I really need to go find my way into a change of clothes and a bathtub. Hopefully Q won't drop by this time." She turned and walked out. Behind her, Seven raised an eyebrow, then turned back to the console.

* * *

Kathryn Janeway was feeling better than she had in weeks. Following her bath – which Q thankfully declined to disturb – and her clean uniform, she had found herself with her feet up, doing something which she hadn't had time for in months: pleasure reading. There were no reports to read, and only one to write – Voyager was a week away from the next communiqué with Starfleet Command via the Midas Array, and she needed to write up the monthly status report. _Captains in the Alpha Quadrant don't need to write monthly status reports. I went and got myself lost 70,000 light years from Starfleet Command, and these days I need to check in with headquarters more often than my counterparts back home. _A cross between a grimace and a smile crossed her face. She'd gotten used to making her own decisions without having to worry about the opinion of some Admiral at headquarters. _Just me and my crew, my ship, and the great frontier. For all that we've lost, we've gained quite a bit, haven't we. I'm certainly not the same woman I was seven years ago._

She turned back to her book. James Joyce – he wasn't someone she'd usually pick for her free reading time, but Neelix had found his way into the literature database before he departed and she's provided him with a plethora of material from Earth to read in his new home. Joyce had popped out while she was selecting the files to give him. She missed Neelix dearly, although she was happy to no longer have to think up reasons to pass on his "better than coffee" supplements anymore.

Her door chimed. She sat up. "Enter." Her first officer entered, adjusting his eyes to the slightly dimmed lights as he scanned the room for her. She relaxed back into her couch, putting her feet back up. "Over here, Commander," she called, and smiled as he grinned when his eyes found her, curled up on a couch in her uniform, clutching a padd.

"I see someone is enjoying her downtime. At least, assuming that's a book, and not a status report," he said, sitting down on the far end of the couch.

She shook off her boots, curling her feet up under her legs. "I'm grateful you forced me to take some time off, Chakotay. I needed it." She hoisted the padd up in her hand and flung it towards Chakotay. He caught it easily. "Have you ever read any James Joyce?" she asked.

He shook his head, grin abating but his good mood remained as he glanced over the book. "I'm afraid not. I didn't read a whole lot of pre-Federation European literature before I joined Starfleet, and read only a very little after I did. In fact, I think your books constitute most of the European fiction I've read."

She nodded towards the book in his hands. "That's one of his best works, but I've read it before. Take it, bring it back when you're finished." She stood and stretched out, meandering over towards the replicator. "Do you have dinner plans, Chakotay?"

He shook his head. "Not unless you're asking. Has your replicator been behaving today?" He grinned as a rueful smile came over her face, and she shook her head.

"I'm happy to say that it has given me no problems in quite a while. I promised to never call it a toaster again, and it has seemingly agreed that it will no longer overcook my dinners." She ordered the replicator to produce a meal for two, which it did without complaint. "See, Chakotay? Treat your replicator as you would wish to be treated, and it will refrain from ruining your food."

They ate together, as they often did – sharing anecdotes about their lives before _Voyager,_ their childhoods and their academy days, their service records, their finest moments and their greatest embarrassments. Chakotay had told her once that she brought him peace and she knew that it was still true, even after all they had been through. She could see the tension seep out of his body, as it did her own – the weight of command that shackled them both released for this short time they spent together during their off hours. For years, this time had served to bring her relief from the stress that commanding _Voyager _laid upon her.

Eventually, as it always did, their conversation turned to the task they shared – protecting and caring for the people who served _Voyager _and her commanding officers. "You know, Chakotay, today for the first time I found myself actually irritated that we have regular communication with Starfleet. Irritated!" She shook her head, and he laughed.

"Let me guess – you remembered you had to write up a status report to tell Admiral Hayes, or Admiral Paris, or Admiral Nechayev, about whatever we've been through in the last month. Am I right?" He grinned and took a sip of his cider as her face contorted into the beginnings of a snarl. It quickly faded.

"For so many years, I regretted not having support from command. I wished that we could communicate, so that the Admiralty could tell me what I should do in a situation where I _knew _in the Alpha Quadrant I would be expected to let them help me decide the proper course of action. And, of course, now, with them so far away and communications only available on a semi-regular basis, that's still essentially true. But I think back, about what I've done in the past, and I _like _the decisions I've made. I don't want to have some Admiral going through my reports and sending me advice I don't want to take." She sighed and leaned back into the couch, taking a sip from her own glass before setting it down. "I guess I've just turned into a maverick."

"No, Kathryn. You're a captain from another era." At her questioning look, he continued. "Do you remember when you lived through Tuvok's memories of the Khitomer conference, and then you went and read through Captain Sulu's logs of the incident?" She nodded. "Well, Harry and I had a conversation afterwards and he told me about what you said about Captain Sulu and Captain Kirk. How back then, the Prime Directive wasn't really the prime directive and phasers were always charged. And how they'd all be cashiered out of Starfleet today." She smiled at the memory. "Well, you know Kathryn, you weren't like them when we got lost out here. But it didn't take you long to start thinking less like a captain of the 24th century, and more like one of the 23rd. Technically, you broke the prime directive to save the Ocampa, and you've risked hell and high water to do right by your crew, just as Sulu did for Kirk and McCoy."

She started to say something, but he waved her off. She closed her mouth and took another sip of the cider. "I met Hikaru Sulu, before he died. Boothby introduced me to him one day, shortly before my first year at the academy and he went on to be my academy sponsor. I must have impressed him." He grinned. "My first debt to Boothby. I think he must know everyone to ever come out of Starfleet Academy."

"I asked Sulu what it was like, serving under Captain Kirk and being a captain himself in the earlier, more chaotic era of Starfleet. He told me then that, back then, there was only one directive – you did what you thought was right, even when your superiors would have told you it was wrong, and dealt with the consequences later. Out here, Kathryn, you have no one who outranks you, and the regulations aren't sufficient to deal with the chaos of the Delta Quadrant." He stopped, and gazed at Janeway, watching her run the ideas through her head.

"Back then no one followed the rules by the letter, because if they did someone was liable to get shot," Janeway murmured. "I guess the Delta Quadrant really isn't all that different." She stopped, and Chakotay saw something like fear, or remorse, in her eyes. She looked up at him. "Chakotay, I never wanted to find myself out here, to be this kind of officer, or this kind of captain. I never trained for it, and I never mentally prepared myself for it. I've just… found myself lost. All I've been able to do is what I thought was right. _Have_ I lived up to the Starfleet legacy? Will I be remembered as a maverick who broke the rules, or as a captain who followed her conscience?" She looked away, and he waited for several seconds until she looked up at him again.

"Back when I met him, I asked Sulu what he thought defined Captain Kirk as an officer – I asked him, specifically, if Kirk would want to be remembered as a captain who always did what he thought was right." Chakotay paused, running Sulu's words through his head. "He told me that there was one moment, one instant, which defined Captain Kirk more than any other. Kirk and his senior officers were standing on the surface of the Genesis Planet, staring up at the sky and watching as their ship, Kirk's _Enterprise_, burn as it fell through the atmosphere. Kirk had commanded that ship for twenty years, and he'd ordered her to self-destruct because he'd had no choice – it was the only option he had left. Sulu said he heard Kirk whisper, 'My God, Bones… what have I done?' to Doctor McCoy."

Chakotay stopped, and reached out and grasped Kathryn's hands, forcing her to look at him. "Sulu said he'd never forget what McCoy said back to Kirk, and I know I've never forgotten the words either. He said, 'What you had to do. What you've always done. Turn death into a fighting chance to live.' Sulu said that was how Kirk would want to be remembered." He squeezed her hands. "Kathryn, isn't that what you've always done?" He released her hands, which fell limply to her sides, then stood and walked over to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't ever doubt yourself, Kathryn. No one else does, and you have our loyalty, the same loyalty Sulu gave Kirk, if it ever comes to that. I promise." Her hand reached out, seeking his as he pulled off her shoulder, and found it. She grasped it and held on for an instant, squeezing it slightly, before releasing him. Then she looked up and nodded.

"Goodnight, Kathryn." Chakotay laid his glass on Janeway's dining table, and then turned towards the door. With a look back, he met her eyes once more, and exited her quarters.

She stood and prepared for bed, slipping out of her uniform and into her usual nightwear. Her mind was quiet, but certain thoughts kept running through. Finally, she tapped her combadge, which was sitting next to her bed. "Janeway to Chakotay," she said quietly.

"_Chakotay here."_ His voice was warm and comforting, as it had always been, and she felt herself sinking into her bed, wrapping herself in the sheets.

"Thank you, Chakotay."

"_Anytime, Kathryn. I'm always here if you need a helping hand. Or a vacation… or just rations for a cup of coffee."_ She startled herself by laughing and closed the link. Smiling, her mind quieted, and she let herself fall into unconsciousness.

* * *

Kathryn Janeway did not want to be awake, but with consciousness came the responsibilities of being captain, and she sat up and started to order the computer to reset her alarm. 

Then she realized that the alarm wasn't active. _Why am I awake, again? _Kathryn sighed and fell backwards against the bed.

"Now now, Kathy, you're awake for a reason. It just so happens that this time, the reason isn't that hideously annoying alarm of yours. Couldn't you choose something a bit less… aggravating?" Janeway knew that voice. She knew the one responsible for the voice. She buried her head under her pillow. _Maybe if I just ignore him, he'll go away._ She didn't even have time to groan before Q whipped the pillow off of her head, tossing it away. Then he pulled the sheets. Janeway pushed herself up and glared. Hard.

"Q, I'm trying to sleep. Go. Away." Q didn't flinch. _Omnipotence is really annoying. _She fell backwards onto the bed, determined to ignore Q until he went away.

"You know, Kathy, of all the time we've ever spent together, or ever will spend together, now is probably the most important for you to stop playing the ostrich and pull your head out of the sand." Q's voice had a level of seriousness that Janeway had never associated with him before. She sat up.

"What do you want, Q?"

"That's an interesting question. You see, I'm not here about what I want. I'm here about what you want, Kathy, and you want to keep… how did Chuckles put it… giving your crew a fighting chance to live? He's right, you know – you're far more Kirk than Picard, and yes, that's a complement." Q sat on the end of her bed. "I'm here to give _you_ that fighting chance. Just as I gave Jean-Luc a fighting chance when I introduced him to the Borg the first time."

"So, I take it that Seven's suspicions that we were being herded somewhere by your 'course corrections' weren't unfounded?" Janeway asked. Whatever fatigue she had been enduring was banished, and her glare had softened somewhat.

"No, this time your resident drone saw right through my rather transparent ploy." Q sighed. "Kathy, why do you think I told Jean-Luc about the Borg all those years ago?"

"As I recall from the mission logs, you were out to demonstrate that even the _Enterprise _was completely outclassed by something in the universe – that there was some threat that would scare Picard enough that he would be dependent on you for the survival of his ship. Then you made him beg for his life." Janeway's voice was wry, but there was an underlying level of tension.

"That… that was part of it. Back then I was still very much in my troublemaker phase. I've learned the 'do not provoke the Borg' lesson in time since." He sighed heavily then started again with more enthusiasm. "But Kathy, if I hadn't introduced the _Enterprise_ to the Borg, what do you think would have happened when they invaded? It would have been a lot worse than forty starships at Wolf 359, I can guarantee you that." Q jumped off the bed and started pacing. "Kathy, there are two great powers in this galaxy. Two. One is the Borg. What do you think the other is?"

Janeway shrugged. "Species 8472? The Dominion? The Q?" He waved her off, shaking his head.

"No, no, the continuum doesn't count. And the Dominion isn't as stable as you think – anyone who needs to subjugate the majority of their troops by addicting them to drugs is asking for trouble. As for 8472, they're not from this galaxy, but even if they were, I'm confident the Borg could handle them the second time around without too many problems, now that they know their 'Got a problem? Just add nanoprobes!' can solve 8472 also." He turned. "Come on, Kathy, it's obvious. Not long ago I might have said the Krenim, but that threat to galactic stability has been defused."

Janeway shrugged again. She'd risen up out of bed and was searching for a uniform. Over her shoulder, she said, "Well, if you're not counting the Q, then you're not counting a whole lot of supernaturally powerful beings, right? So I can't pick the Bajoran prophets."

Q shuddered and his face contorted. "The prophets?" He made an exaggerated sound of disgust. "Nobody messes with a race that exists outside the scope of space-time. Luckily for everyone, they also tend not to mess with anybody. You know, I met Benjamin Sisko once. I thought he might be a new source of entertainment – he definitely had a temper. But once I realized who he was, I left him alone and never went back to that wretched space station."

Janeway's eyebrow rose, but she said nothing. She'd had dinner with Commander Sisko and his son Jake while _Voyager _was docked at Deep Space 9 seven years before on her way into the Badlands. He'd briefed her on his experiences with the Maquis. She'd rather liked the man, and understood from Starfleet's monthly briefs that he'd become a significant figure during the Dominion War.

She turned her mind back to the question Q had asked. _The other great power in the universe, along with the Borg. _Q tapped his foot, obviously getting impatient. She shrugged. "The Federation?" she asked.

"Bingo!" Q said excitedly. "The Borg and the Federation! And you're both _two_ sides of the _same_ coin." Janeway's mouth snapped open, outrage bubbling up inside of her. Q shut her off with a glare. "Don't say it! The Federation and the Borg both gobble up all the technology and culture and people they possibly can, integrating them into a society that takes their skills and finds a way to use them to their greatest ability. Oh, sure, ideologically you're a _little_ different, but practically you're more alike than you would like to admit." Q's head bobbed back and forth as he listed examples. "You're both groups of cultures and species, while essentially every other organization is based around one species or another. Think about it: there is no 'Human Empire' because humanity founded the Federation. If humanity disappeared tomorrow the Federation would still survive. Do you think anyone actually remembers the species that started the Borg? The collective doesn't even remember where it came from anymore. Just ask your drone. She'll tell you, 'the collective's memory from that time is… fragmented' or some such ridiculousness. It's true, of course, but the _truth_ is, it doesn't matter. No one cares where the Borg came from."

Q started pacing around the room, walking in circles and gesticulating wildly. "Why do you think the Borg are always taking potshots at the Federation, but have never mounted a full-scale attack? They went through great lengths to try to stop the Federation from even coming into existence, although they failed. In the end, they know only the Federation is a true threat to the Borg. The Federation collects skills, individuals, cultures – for crying out loud, Kathy, even the Klingons might as well be members at this point. The Cardassians, of all people, are working towards membership! I wouldn't be surprised if the Changelings joined the Federation someday. And the Romulans!"

Janeway found her voice. "Q, what is your point?"

Q turned back to her. "My point is, eventually the day would come when the Borg would finally decide that the Federation is too great a risk – that someday, Federation innovation would surpass Borg assimilation – and take steps, real steps, not those piddling attacks on Earth which Starfleet calls 'invasions,' to eliminate that threat once and for all. And I am here… to make sure that you know it's coming. Because just like all those years ago, when Jean-Luc and the _Enterprise_ were the only people in a position to stop the Borg then, today, Kathy and _Voyager _are the only people who can stop them now." He stared at her. Hard.

"I like you, Kathy. And I like Jean-Luc. And you two have passed every test we've ever given, every question of worthiness, and readiness, and of intelligence that the continuum could think of. There is no more time for tests, for spatial anomalies dragging you backwards in time or giant space jellyfish, tortured by some idiot Denebian. How it will end… I don't know, Kathy. The only officer Starfleet ever produced for this who would really be up to the challenge of fighting the Borg on their terms is Kirk, and he's dead. Welcome to the right place at the right time. Maybe it's because I helped you along, like I helped Jean-Luc along. Maybe you're here because you were meant to be. Good luck, Kathy. I'd like to see how the Queen deals with defeat."

And then he was gone.

Janeway pondered Q's prophetic words as she slipped on her red and black uniform and pinned her captain's pips to her collar. The uniform was neat, pressed, and clean – just as she had always assumed her Starfleet career would be. She ran her hands down it, pressing it out just a little bit more, working the wrinkles out of existence.

_Is this it? The moment of truth? Q sounded downright panicky. Am I walking into the final clash with the Borg? The best of both worlds, part two? They won the first round at Wolf 359, but the_ Enterprise _got the last laugh. _A short, irreverent though popped into existence. _Why does Q care, anyway? _She didn't have time to ponder it. Besides, Q probably didn't care; he was just playing with the lowly mortals.

Janeway took a few deep breaths, working herself into a state of calm that Tuvok had taught her to reach for between moments of crisis. _We've fought the Borg before, and we've won. And Species 8472. And others. _"We're ready. This time, we're ready." She said the words aloud, to herself. She thought back to Chakotay's words from the night before, which Q had echoed. _A fighting chance to live. _

_"Kim to Janeway."_ Harry had the night shift, and was still in command. She glanced at the chronometer. _Still early. He wouldn't be calling if it weren't important._

Janeway tapped her combadge. "Go ahead, Ensign."

_"Captain, we've detected a large number of transwarp signatures. It looks like a massive number of Borg cubes, somewhere between forty and fifty. All of them are headed towards a nebula about twelve hours ahead of us."_ Harry's voice was nervous, but steady.

"Take us out of warp, Ensign, and find us something to hide in or behind. I want the ship rigged for silent running – if we can avoid detection we'll be far better off. I'm on my way to the bridge. Get the rest of the senior staff out of bed."

_"Yes ma'am." _The link with the bridge cut out.

Janeway jolted herself into action, moving quickly out of her quarters. The smooth lines of her uniform wrinkled from the movement. She had work to do.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

"Report, Mr. Kim," Janeway said as she emerged from the turbolift. Most of the senior staff were not yet at their stations. Ensign Jenkins was at the conn, Lieutenant Andrews stood behind the tactical station. The bridge was mostly empty, but Janeway knew that her senior staff would be arriving shortly. Harry wasn't in the captain's chair, but standing with Ensign Lang behind the operations console.

"We've taken the ship into a massive class 2 nebula about six lightyears off our previous heading. The interference here should prevent detection by the Borg," Kim said, leaning over Ensign Lang, who was peering at the screen intently.

"Captain, the density of this nebula is relatively low, compared to most class 2s, but it will be more than enough to prevent detection unless the Borg are looking for us. There's a small solar system in here also – a single G-type star and several decent sized planetoids, although none are capable of supporting life," commented Lang. From the turbolift emerged Tuvok and Chakotay. Chakotay moved over to join them at operations, while Tuvok relieved Andrews.

"Ensign Jenkins, I want you to put us in an orbit around the star pacing one of those planetoids. If possible I want us to look like we're part of the planet, not an independent source of radiation," Janeway ordered. Kim nodded to Lang, who moved out of the ops station and off towards the turbolift. Janeway turned to Chakotay. "Commander, we've detected a large number of Borg vessels, congregating around a peculiar nebula on our course. We're not sure what they're doing." She tapped her combadge. "Janeway to Seven of Nine, you are needed on the bridge." She reached out and grabbed Chakotay's arm as he moved towards his chair, and murmured, "Chakotay, I had a visit from Q last night. I don't know what we're walking into, but whatever is going on is important. Really, really important."

Chakotay's eyes widened a bit, but he just nodded his understanding and resumed his post. "Tuvok, we need to figure out what the Borg are up to this time. Do you have any suggestions?" Janeway asked, walking over to the tactical station.

Tuvok glanced over his console. "There is little we can do, Captain, from our current position. The nebula serves to prevent our detection by the Borg, but it also prevents us from performing any meaningful scans of their activities." Tuvok pressed a few buttons on his console. "We might be able to take a shuttlecraft close enough to gather intelligence on their activities. I would not suggest taking _Voyager_ any closer than we have already come. With the amount of Borg vessels in the region, I suspect the chance of _Voyager _being intercepted is close to a certainty."

Janeway had suspected as much. She gestured to Tuvok. "My ready room, Mr. Tuvok. Chakotay, you're with me. Ensign, you have the bridge until Tom gets here. When Seven arrives, tell her to start working on a way to figure out what the Queen is up to. We'll have a briefing when all the senior officers are available." Harry nodded his assent.

The three senior officers left the bridge, leaving Harry and Rose Jenkins alone. "So, sir. It's been a while since there's been any excitement on the night shift, but here we go again," said Ensign Jenkins. A small, wry smile came to Harry's face.

"Well, this time I wasn't going to make any decisions," Harry said. "Sentient anti-matter warheads, I can deal with. The Borg…" his voice trailed off. "For the Borg, I call the Captain." Jenkins grinned.

Behind her, the turbolift hissed open. From it emerged Tom Paris, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed, and Ensign Ashmore, who took the engineering station. "So… Harry… what's so important that you're getting us out of bed at this hour?" Tom asked. He tapped Jenkins on the shoulder, and she stood to allow Paris to take the conn.

As she brushed past him, she said, "Well, it's probably got something to do with the armada of Borg vessels between us and the Alpha Quadrant." As Paris looked up, she patted him on the shoulder. "Make sure you don't crash us into the planet we're pacing, Lieutenant."

Paris glanced at Harry, who wore a grin. He grimaced. "Great!" Tom said, dragging the word out. He turned back to his station and shook his head. "My Klingon wife is about to give birth, I haven't had a full nights sleep in a week, I took two bridge shifts yesterday because Baytart somehow managed to contract an enhanced strain of the flu, and now the Borg are back. Oh, and I don't have replicator rations left, so I've got to eat Chell's food for dinner tonight. Any other good news?"

Kim was still grinning. "I heard the Captain tell the Commander that Q stopped by last night to say hi," he said.

"It's always something," muttered Paris.

* * *

"Talk to me, people," Janeway demanded. Her senior staff was assembled – briefing Chakotay and Tuvok about Q's visit hadn't taken that long, but both had agreed that whatever it was Q wanted, they couldn't afford to take his warning lightly, especially in light of the last time Q had involved the Federation with the Borg. After the meeting, Chakotay had stayed behind and they'd shared two highly caffeinated beverages to get their minds working. Despite the coffee, neither had come up with a plan to investigate the Borg without getting the ship assimilated. _I've been assimilated once. I've no interest in experiencing it again. Though, being a drone would definitely let me in on the Queen's new secret._

"I believe I may have a possible solution to this current dilemma, Captain." Seven of Nine had arrived on the bridge shortly after Paris and had been working vigorously at the science station in the hour since. "However, it would require placing several members of the crew at risk and alerting the collective to our presence."

Janeway didn't blink. "Go on, Seven."

"I believe it is possible to use my neural transceiver to allow myself to be temporarily connected to the collective. Once that is done, I would hear the collective's thoughts and become aware of their intentions in this region. However, as soon as I was reintegrated into the collective the Queen would become aware of my presence," Seven said. "It may be more prudent to use Icheb's transceiver to link him into the collective – the Queen is familiar with my mind, and will sense my presence very quickly. She is not familiar with Icheb."

"How would you propose to link into the collective, Seven?" Janeway asked. Seven turned and glanced at the Doctor, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "The Doctor would reactivate my neural transceiver. Then I would take the _Delta Flyer _to the edge of the Borg sensor perimeter and attempt to determine an uplink frequency that the collective mind is currently operating on by tapping into the central plexus of one of the Borg vessels. Once that is done, we would 'hack' into the collective."

"Would this be possible, Doctor?" Chakotay asked. The Doctor glanced at Seven, also looking uncomfortable, but put whatever was bothering him aside and answered the Commander.

"I believe so, Commander. Seven and Icheb both have functioning, although currently disabled, neural transceivers. I was able to remove the ones implanted in the Captain, Commander Tuvok, and Lieutenant Torres because they were recent, and they were implanted well into adulthood. Seven and Icheb were both assimilated as children and I've been unable to remove them." He turned to the Captain. "The most difficult part of the process would be determining the proper interlink frequency. There are thousands of possibilities, and the only way I can think of to determine an active frequency would be to try each one individually. Working with both Icheb and Seven, it would take several hours at least, and during the process we would be vulnerable to detection by the Borg."

Janeway was silent for several seconds, then she nodded. "All right, unless anyone has any other options, I don't see that we have a choice. Seven, have Icheb report to my ready room and I'll ask him if he'd be willing to volunteer. Afterwards, get started with making any modifications to the _Flyer _that would be helpful in accelerating our determination of the interlink frequency. B'Elanna, if you're on your feet you'll assist them. Install the Hansen's multi-adaptive shields on the new _Flyer _as well – it'll provide the _Flyer _with cover." Torres nodded.

Seven spoke up. "Captain, the collective will have worked on a counter for the multi-adaptive shielding since their last encounter with it. They will certainly be markedly less effective than they were initially."

"Understood, Seven. At least it will give us a little bit of time. If they're not looking for the _Flyer, _then the shields should conceal the shuttle for a while, anyway. If that's all?" Janeway asked. No one spoke. "Get to it. We don't know how much time we have to act and stop whatever the Borg are planning, but I'll tell you this – Q stopped by last night to say hello, and he warned me that a battle was coming, and that we should be ready." She scanned the room, meeting the eyes of her officers. "Dismissed."

They all stood to leave, filing out of the room and into the bridge. Only Chakotay remained behind, standing behind his chair and waiting for the room to clear. Janeway turned to face him. "Here we are again, Chakotay. Staring the Borg in the face." She looked up at him. "I don't know what they're up to, but Q makes me think that there's more to this than _Voyager._ There's something going on here, something huge, and we need to find out what it is and stop it."

"I know," he said. "What else did Q tell you, Kathryn? You're leaving something out." She sighed. She'd told him and Tuvok almost everything that Q had said the night before, but he was right. Neither had been able to lie successfully to the other for years.

"He said that there was no captain, except maybe Kirk, who would be up to the challenge of the Borg, and that I was in the right place at the right time to defeat the Queen. And he said I was more Kirk than Picard."

Chakotay smiled. "Remember what I told you, Kathryn? You're more like Kirk than you'd like to admit. So Q said that you were, 'more Kirk than Picard.' Well, Picard beat them the last time. And whether or not this is a battle for Kirk, we've got the right person leading us. As we always have."

She smiled at him. "C'mon, Chakotay, lets go give the Queen another black eye."

* * *

"You wished to see me, Captain?" Icheb stood in the doorway of the ready room. 

"Yes, Icheb, come in." Janeway was seated behind her desk, and she gestured to Icheb to take a seat opposite her. "I know you're aware of the Borg fleet which has been detected ahead of us. How much has Seven told you about our plan to gather intelligence on their activities?"

"Very little, Captain. Seven has mentioned that she intends to use our inactivated neural transceivers in order to access the hive mind, but she said nothing more before ordering me to report to you for briefing."

Janeway's lips pressed into a thin line. "This isn't a briefing, Icheb, not yet. I'm not ordering you to go on this mission, although your presence would be greatly beneficial." Icheb nodded. "We intend to test the potential Borg interlink frequencies from the _Delta Flyer_, one after another, and eliminate them until we have accessed a frequency they are operating on. Once that is done, either you or Seven would hook into the collective and eavesdrop. Seven suggested that you would be more suited for this: the Queen is very familiar with her mind and she is less familiar with you. You might be able to go undetected in the collective for longer."

"I understand, Captain. When will we depart?" Icheb's back was straight, and it was clear that he never even considered declining the mission.

"Icheb… I'm asking you to go on a very dangerous mission. I would understand if any officer declined to be aboard the _Flyer,_ but your role would be the most dangerous of all. Are you sure you want to do this?" Janeway asked. She had stood and was now towering over the seated Icheb, her hand resting on his shoulder. He turned towards her.

"Captain, you rescued me from the collective, and rescued me from my parents. If not for you, I would be dead, either because the Borg had abandoned me to that fate, or because my parents would have allowed me to become assimilated again to strike a meaningless blow against the collective. Because of you and this crew I have served aboard a starship, traveled thousands of light years, and was given the opportunity to learn about astronomy, engineering, and… individuality. I owe _Voyager _my life, and if this mission will serve to prevent the destruction of my friends… my family… then it is a risk I am willing to take. A risk I insist I be allowed to take."

Janeway smiled, a sad, slow smile. Suddenly, pulled by an impulse, she pulled the young man to his feet and wrapped him in a hug. She felt him stiffen, and then relax. After a second, she released him, her hands grasping his forearms. "You're part of this family too, Icheb, and we'd do anything to protect you. _Voyager _is a family, and we'd do what we did for you a hundred times."

"Thank you, Captain." A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Permission to report to the shuttlebay to join in the modifications to the _Flyer?_"

"Granted. Cadet."

A look of confusion came over Icheb's face. "Captain?" Janeway was hard pressed to keep a smile off her own.

"Mr. Icheb, as the commanding officer of the _USS Voyager, _and the ranking officer in the Delta Quadrant, I'm putting you up for immediate nomination to Starfleet Academy. You've made no secret of your desire to attend. Since we're obviously out of range of the Academy, and the link to Starfleet Command won't be active again for another two weeks, I'm skipping over the admissions process. Captain's prerogative. Welcome to Starfleet, Mr. Icheb." Unable to restrain it, she gave him a crooked grin.

"Captain, I… thank you, Captain."

"_Now_ go get to work, Cadet."

* * *

"How goes the manual labor?" Tom Paris poked his head into the aft compartment of the _Delta Flyer_, where his very pregnant wife and the Doctor were working on several modifications to the shuttle's systems. 

B'Elanna's response wasn't one that filled him with optimism. She started with a particularly vehement Klingon curse, one he didn't quite recognize. She followed it with a series of minor expletives, directed towards the console she was modifying, the shield generator, the shuttle's warp core, and his non-standard operating console. She finished with, "And, Tom, I swear if someone doesn't get this _petaQ_ out of my _face,_ he's going to need repairs to his physical characteristic subroutines!"

Tom had to restrain a smile. The Doctor looked quite put out, and said, "But Lieutenant, you've been working on the modifications for over three hours straight! You're pregnant! Ensign Kim and Crewman Nozawa can finish the modifications and they are _not _pregnant. _You _should go back to your quarters and get some sleep."

B'Elanna muttered something about having left Vorik in command of Engineering, not trusting Kashimuro to be able to solve the _Flyer's _power distribution issues, and wanting to find Nicoletti to ask about some problem with the secondary transporter buffer. Her husband grasped her arm and tugged her from the shuttle, leading her towards the shuttlebay doors.

Once in the turbolift, he dared to open his mouth. "So, will the _Flyer_ be ready by tomorrow?" She sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Yeah. Despite my protestations to the contrary, Harry and Kash should be fine." She looked at him. "You're going with Seven, Icheb, and the Doctor, aren't you," she asked quietly. He nodded.

"Yeah, I am. Harry is coming too, he'll help the Doc lock in on the frequency we need and he'll be a good wingman to have. I'm piloting, and technically am in command of the mission. The Captain was thinking about sending Chakotay, but they eventually decided that a more experienced pilot was in order, and that meant either me or Baytart – and there's no way I'm letting Harry, Seven, Icheb, and the Doc go into this one without the best pilot we've got behind the controls."

B'Elanna knew that. _I wish he weren't going,_ she couldn't help but think. _But in his place, I'd go too. _The turbolift door slid open and they walked slowly to their quarters, Tom putting his arm around his exhausted wife and helping her inside. After the doors slid closed, she turned and put her arms around him. "Come back, Tom. Please."

"Darling, I'm not going anywhere. This mission isn't nearly as insane as when you went and got yourself assimilated with Tuvok and Captain Janeway. We'll be ok, we'll come back, and we'll find a way to stop the Borg with a virus, or a nanoprobe, or a photon torpedo, and then we'll all go home," he said, whispering the last words into her hair.

"Tom, where's home?"

"Wherever we can be together. You, me, and our daughter."

* * *

_"The is the _Delta Flyer_, requesting permission to depart."_ Tom's voice came through into the bridge, where Janeway, Chakotay, and Tuvok were the only regular officers at their posts. At the helm was Ensign Baytart, taking Tom's place. At ops stood Lieutenant Ayala, wearing his command red, instead of the security yellow he'd worn until transferring to command a month before. Both were capable officers, and Janeway felt guilty wishing for her normal staff. _But then, the _Flyer _needs the best if they're going accomplish this mission._ Janeway wouldn't admit it to anyone, but she was nervous for the men and woman she was sending out for this reconnaissance. _They're the best. They'll be fine._

"Permission granted, Mr. Paris. Go, get what we need, and get back here. _Voyager _will be waiting." Her thoughts did not show in her voice, which had the same confidence it always did.

_"Yes ma'am. _Delta Flyer_ on her way. We'll be back before you even realized we were gone. See you tomorrow."_ The communications cut out as the _Flyer _exited the shuttlebay and went to warp, jumping away in a flash of light that was smothered by the nebula that surrounded both ships. _Voyager _herself was silent, lights dimmed and surrounded by the shadow of a planet.

Janeway stood. "Chakotay, you have the bridge. I'll be in my ready room." Once ensconced in her ready room, she took a seat on the couch next to the window. Sitting there, she let herself lapse, losing the concentration which she worked so hard to protect on the bridge. It would be a day, maybe two, before the _Delta Flyer _returned with the information they needed, and until then she had no doubt she would be unable to sleep.

Her door chimed. She let the captain's mask fall into place again, and responded. "Enter." Chakotay slipped through the doors and walked over to where she was sitting, taking a spot next to her on the couch. He didn't say anything, just waited. "It never gets any easier, does it?" she asked. "On the deadliest of missions, I always made sure I was going along. But this time, my presence really isn't required, as there's nothing I would be able to do that Harry, or Seven, or the Doctor isn't more qualified for. So here I sit, having sent five good people on a dangerous mission and I can't even share the danger with them."

Chakotay sat for a second. Then he said, "You're not going to sleep tonight, are you." It was a statement, not a question. She shook her head, soundlessly. As long as Tom, Harry, Seven, the Doctor, and Icheb were out on that shuttle, there was no way she was going to get any rest. "So what _are_ you going to do tonight, Kathryn?"

She lay back into the couch. "Drink a lot of coffee, I guess," she said. "At least the Doctor isn't around to yell at me for using too many stimulants. You wouldn't happen to have a bunch of extra replicator rations, would you?"

He chuckled. "I may have a few, although I have a feeling your 'bunch' does not equal my 'few'." He turned. "Maybe you should try going on a vision quest tonight, Kathryn," he said. She sat up. "You haven't gone on one in years. I bet your spirit guide is lonely."

She smiled despite herself. "I suppose I should do something to distract myself, and Vulcan meditation just doesn't do it for me. Never has." She looked at him. "All right, Chakotay. A vision quest. Although I'm not sure what it will accomplish."

Twenty minutes later, Chakotay returned with his medicine bundle. He sat on the floor and she slid down to join him. Chakotay's voice took on a hypnotizing quality as he helped her enter the trance. Slowly, her ready room melted away. As did his voice.

_She found herself in a forest, thick with trees. Kathryn did not know from where she had come, or where she was going, and there was nothing that resembled a road. Slowly, she took in her surroundings, judging herself to be in good health and the forest to be free of immediate dangers. _

_Working on instinct, she picked a path and started trudging forward, stepping over wayward roots. She was wearing her uniform, complete with all four captain's pips and her combadge. As she walked, the legs grew dirty as she brushed against nature. Finally, she came to a clearing, and there, on a rock, was her spirit guide. The small brown lizard looked up at her with curious eyes. She sat beside it, the sun drying her moist trousers._

_"You have come seeking peace, lady warrior, but it is peace you will not find here," the lizard spoke, although it's mouth did not move. "While the lives of others depend upon the decisions you make, that peace you can never find. Someday, one way or the other, you will be able to find your peace, through death or through liberation. Look into yourself, and know your own soul, Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager. Someday, you will be Kathryn, and you will have to find a new way. Forget not the past when looking for your future."_

_The lizard crawled off of the rock and slipped into the grass. She tried to follow it, but it was lost quickly in the thick grass of the forest. Looking into the forest, she suddenly saw a path, ridden with obstacles and twists and turns, roadblocks and felt the hidden dangers. She started through it, her stained uniform taking further damage. She felt the leg of her pants tear. But, as she walked, she walked with a confidence that she knew the proper path, the right decisions. Strength she did not know she had filled her body, filling her with confidence in the rightness of her actions. If she fell off the proper path, the strength too fled, and returned when she found the path. _

_Finally, she came to a waterfall. The strength pooled within her, her doubts fell away. Her mind was active, busy, but focused on overcoming this latest obstacle. Across the ravine was another cliff, higher than the one she was standing on. She knew, instinctively, that it was her goal – she had to find a way across the ravine, and to climb the cliff._

_"Let your doubts go, Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager."_ _The gecko was back, on the bank of the river. Suddenly, the ground shook, and she looked up in astonishment as the cliff she was striving to reach began to shake and crumble. "You have no time to search for your peace. You will not find it until after your journey. Follow your strength, it will guide you home." The cliff was crumbling, and she took a step forward, towards the precipice, looking up at her destination. And she took another. She looked down, having stepped into the river leading to the waterfall that flowed over her precipice, and the strength had left her suddenly returned. As she stepped further into the river, she looked down in astonishment – her uniform washed away, off of her skin, as if it had been painted on. She found herself naked, standing in the river before the waterfall. But her strength remained, and looking down from the precipice she made a decision, and threw herself over the waterfall._

_Falling, she hit the water below and was submerged. Kicking her legs, she breached the water and looked around her as her eyes cleared. She saw no cliffs, and no forest. She stood, and realized she was on the second, taller cliff, climbing out of a lake in the middle of a field. Looking forward, she saw the shorter cliff, and the waterfall descending to water below, and walked forward to look out on from where she had come._

_Beside the edge of the cliff, she found her gecko. It was lying on a rock, sunning itself. Underneath it laid her uniform, spotless. Her guide looked up at her. "There is no straight road, Kathryn. No peace for you in this time. There is only life and death. You will soon be free to find your peace, but do not forget the strength that came from following the path, or those that kept you on the path. If you reach for them, they will be there for you."_

When she came to, Chakotay was waiting with a steaming cup of black coffee. She accepted it gratefully, and took a sip. "Did you find some peace of mind?" he asked.

She thought about it for a second. "No, I don't think I did, Chakotay." Before he could look disappointed, she spoke again. "But it reminded me of who Captain Janeway is, and why she is who she is, and why she does what she does. And right now, Chakotay, I am profoundly grateful to be me."

* * *

Icheb had never been on a mission like this one before, he knew, and he would very likely never go on one like it again. None of them knew the consequences of failure, but he suspected it would be death, either at the hands of the Borg now, if they were caught, or at the hands of the Borg later, after they carried out their plans. 

The _Delta Flyer _hung in space, far too close to a pair of Borg vessels for anyone to be truly calm. Tom was tapping his fingers on his console, itching to punch the shuttle into high gear and book it out of there, as he knew he would eventually be doing, one way or the other. Harry Kim was running through different frequencies, trying to isolate the Borg interlink frequency to allow Icheb to hack into the collective. The Doctor was monitoring both Seven and him while they tested different interlink frequencies using their neural transceivers. They had been doing this for well over an hour, and both knew that sooner or later the cubes would detect their presence.

Suddenly everything froze. Seven, the Doctor, Harry… all of them were suddenly perfectly still. Harry had been in the middle of inputting a new interlink frequency for Icheb to test, and his mouth hung half open. Standing up, Icheb started to look around to find a cause for the phenomenon, but there was nothing.

"Nothing to see here, just two Borg cubes off the bow of a fancy shuttlecraft… so primitively human, don't you think, Itchy?" Icheb turned. Sitting on Seven's frozen lap was Q. The teenaged one.

"Q, what are you doing here? Can't you see we're very busy?" Icheb asked, about as close to irate as he ever got. Q nodded.

"Of course I can. You're going to be much more busy in about… oh, thirty minutes, when those two cubes realize you're here, though. And you won't discover the proper interlink frequency for another twenty minutes at least, barely enough time to find the information you need and get out. And frankly, Itchy, I don't _want_ you to get assimilated."

"I must complete my mission, Q," Icheb said firmly.

"Oh, I know, _Cadet._" He sighed. "If the continuum ever finds out I did this, I'll be torn into very, very tiny pieces. Or maybe they'll turn me into an amoeba again, and believe me, _that_ was unpleasant." Q got off Seven's lap and meandered over to Harry. He deleted a couple numbers from the frequency Harry was inputting, and replaced them with another two digits. "There, try this one." He turned to Icheb. "Good luck, my friend," Q said. "Oh, and… don't tell anyone I was here. I _really _don't want to be an amoeba." Then he vanished.

"Here, Icheb, try this one," Harry said. Icheb was startled for a second, but then nodded. Harry pressed a button, and Icheb's mind was suddenly filled with millions of voices. For a second he staggered. Icheb had never known the collective as a whole, and it was overwhelming and vaguely hypnotic. But he regained his composure.

"This is it, Ensign. We've found the frequency. I can hear the collective," Icheb said. All of them froze for a second, but then jumped into action. Harry turned back to his controls, recording the data and getting ready to cut the connection. "I can't make out any of the voices, Seven. I cannot understand what they are saying."

Seven looked down upon him, then she turned back to the console. "We have determined the interlink frequency, but you have not been integrated into the collective mind. This will take a second. Once you are connected, you will be able to hear the voices of the hive, but they will also be able to hear you. Be ready, and guard your thoughts." Icheb nodded.

_"Transwarp Hub 005 is activated. Cubes 1024, 1129, 1435, 1543…"  
"Target is confirmed. Heavy resistance is expected. Assimilate…"  
"Sector 001 will be neutralized. All technological distinctiveness…"  
"All vessels in the vicinity of Hub 005 are to engage in transit upon…"_

_"Well, what have we here? You are no drone, but I can hear your thoughts. Welcome to the collective, young one." _The voice was silky smooth, and Icheb knew instantly that it was the Queen. _"Don't be afraid. I'm quite interested in anyone who can find his way into the mind of the collective without being a drone. I'm curious to meet you."_

Icheb attempted to cut the link, but he could not. "Seven, the Queen has discovered my presence in the collective. I am unable to terminate the link," Icheb said aloud. Harry pressed a button on his console but he too was unable to cut the connection. "I have discovered the collective's plans. The ships are congregated around a Borg transwarp hub with Alpha Quadrant exit apertures. They are preparing to engage in an all out assault on the Federation." Paris swore aloud, and Harry's mouth worked like a fish for a few seconds. Then both swung into action, and the _Flyer _started to move away from the cubes at impulse.

_"You are quite good at shielding your thoughts, young one, but I'll find my way into your mind eventually. What is your name, child?"_

"I cannot disengage the link. I will have to short out your neural transceiver manually," said the Doctor. "Keep the Queen distracted. It will take a minute."

_"My name is Icheb," _he thought to the Queen. _"I have infiltrated the collective in order to discover your intentions against my people." _Icheb decided truth was the best way to proceed. Lies would likely be discovered, but by revealing some truths maybe he would be able to conceal others until he was freed.

_"Your people were probably not at risk from my drones until you infiltrated my collective," _the Queen's voice echoed through his mind. _"Now that you have revealed your abilities to me, they are very appealing. I must send some drones to assimilate you and your technological capability. I think you would make a fine drone, young Icheb."_

_"I have no wish to be a drone. Individuality is something I have come to cherish, and would regret having to give it up."_

_"Such ability, such intellect, and yet such a small-minded viewpoint towards the universe. How can you achieve perfection as an individual? It is through the greater whole of all that your intellect will truly find expression." _Icheb struggled to hide his thoughts. He was aware of the Queen probing his mind, searching for information as to his identity, his location, and his true intentions. She sliced through his mental guards, probing his mind. Some things he hid successfully. Some he did not. The voice returned, but was flat, without any of the pretense of friendship. _"You are hoping that your connection will be severed, young Icheb. That is unsurprising. But the rest of it…" _Her voice dropped to a growl. _"Janeway. You work for Janeway."_

In the cockpit of the _Delta Flyer, _the Doctor applied a powerful electromagnetic pulse to Icheb's neck. The neural transceiver shorted out, and Icheb collapsed bonelessly to the floor of the shuttle.

* * *

On the bridge of _Voyager, _Janeway's hands rested in her lap as she waited for the _Flyer _to return. Chakotay was up at ops, working with Ayala on something, she wasn't really sure what, and she suspected neither of them was truly paying attention to it either. Tuvok had security running tactical drills, getting _Voyager _ready for a fight that they were all expecting to come sooner or later. At the helm, Baytart had long since retired to his quarters, and Ensign Jenkins was back at the conn. All of them were on edge – the _Flyer _was due back at any time now. 

Suddenly, an alert beeped on one of the consoles in the back. Tuvok glanced at his controls. "Captain, the _Delta Flyer _is approaching at high impulse. They do not appear to be pursued, but I suggest going to red alert."

Chakotay beat her to it. "All hands, red alert." He swung around, nodding at Ayala, and took his seat on her left. "Lieutenant, can you raise them?" he asked.

"No, sir. The interference from the nebula prevents communication at all but minimal distances. We should have communications in two minutes." Ayala scanned over the ops console. "Still no sign of pursuit." For two minutes all of them sat still, and then the ops console beeped. Ayala looked up. "We're being hailed by the _Flyer,_ ma'am. Audio only." She nodded.

"Put it through, Lieutenant."

_"Paris to _Voyager_. Paris to _Voyager_, come in please."_ The communication was rife with static, but stable.

"_Voyager _to Paris, we can hear you loud and clear, Lieutenant. Report," Janeway said. Her voice belied little of her underlying tension.

_"We're all fine. The Doctor had to knock out Icheb when the Queen discovered his neural link to the collective, but he'll recover. I have bad news, Captain."_ Unlike Janeway's, Paris' voice was wrought with tension. He didn't give her the chance to ask what they'd discovered_. "The nebula ahead of us that the Borg are clustered around contains a transwarp hub with Alpha Quadrant exit apertures. The Borg intend to use it to invade the Federation inside of the next week – a full scale invasion, with all of the fifty odd vessels we detected."_

No one spoke. A terse silence filled the bridge. Janeway thought even Tuvok refrained from breathing as they all allowed the information to sink in. Finally, she spoke. "Acknowledged, Lieutenant. Bring the _Flyer _in and report to the conference lounge for debriefing."

_"Yes ma'am. Paris out."_

_Oh God, _Janeway thought. _Into the mouth of Hell._


	4. Interlude

**Interlude**

"Damage report!" The bridge shook, and in the back one of the science stations exploded, showering the bridge in sparks.

"Hull breach on deck 16. We've lost main power on decks 11 and 12. Admiral, we've lost the _Challenger_ and the _Budapest_. The _Al-Batani _has taken severe damage to her impulse drive. She's a sitting duck."

Admiral DeSoto acknowledged the damage reports with a nod. "DeSoto to Neeley. We can't hold the Borg off for much longer. How long until you reach the target?"

Commander Lisa Neeley's voice sounded frantic. _"We're fighting our way through these drones one at a time, Admiral, but they're more resistant to the new phaser calibrations than they were back in the Alpha Quadrant."_ In the background, DeSoto could hear those phasers firing and the telltale sounds of drones marching forward and crumbling under the fire from Neeley's platoon. _"You've got to give us another ten minutes, sir."_

"Acknowledged, Commander. Hurry, Lisa, we're down to six ships."

_"Yes, Sir. Neeley out." _

Around DeSoto, the bridge of the _Hood _sparked under the Borg onslaught. They were still outnumbered badly, as they had been when the engagement began. The Federation ships had inflicted a three to one casualty rate on the Borg defenders, but soon they would be overcome. _We've got to give her just a little more time. If she can get to the hub's central plexus, she can end this right here, right now._ Looking at the massive fleet of Borg vessels, DeSoto knew the Borg Queen was on one of the vessels out there trying to kill him and his people. He wasn't about to give her the satisfaction.

The _Hood _and her sister ship, the _Al-Batani, _worked in concert, concentrating their torpedoes on the cubes that stayed at range, and blasting the ships that got close with phasers. With the _Al-Batani's _engines offline, she couldn't keep up with the still-mobile _Hood,_ but her torpedoes continued to cut right through the cubes. _It's too bad we didn't get here years ago, when we'd just developed these weapons modifications. If we had, we would have blown right through these bastards._

DeSoto watched as the sensor pod containing the _Ulysses' _torpedo launchers was sheared off her primary hull by a pair of Borg torpedoes. Charging the cube whose weapons had brutally maimed her, her phasers flashed and DeSoto watched as the crippled Nebula-class _Ulysses _slammed headlong into the cube. Both ships vanished in the ensuing anti-matter explosion.

The shockwave shook the _Hood_. "Get me Reynolds aboard the _Centaur_. We're going to have to make our last stand here to give Neeley more time," he barked to the woman manning communications. She acknowledged him, and Reynolds appeared on DeSoto's viewer. "Charlie. We're down to five ships, and there are still thirty cubes out there. We have to give Neeley some more time."

"I hear you, Bob. I'm bringing the _Centaur _in behind you and the _Al-Batani._ We'll add our launchers to yours. The _Yamato _and _Appalachia _are going to try to disengage from the cubes they're battling with on our starboard flank and join us. We'll make the last stand over the hub itself. How long until Neeley triggers the cascade?"

"She said ten minutes four minutes ago. We'll just give her as long as we can."

"Acknowledged." Reynolds bared his teeth with a feral grin. "To quote my friend Chancellor Martok, today _is _a good day to die. Reynolds out."

The _Yamato,_ a Sovereign-class starship, and her escort the Steamrunner-class _Appalachia, _threw some torpedoes at the three cubes they were battling, and one of the three exploded violently. Then they turned tail and sped towards the _Hood, _coming in to support the flagship. The _Centaur _threw dozens of torpedoes as the cubes moved forward – she had more firepower than any of the other ships – and some of them staggered under her barrage. But they were outnumbered too badly, and some of the ships got into range.

To the stern of the _Hood _the _Al-Batani _suddenly surged to life. Her crippled engines screamed under the strain, but the ship moved nonetheless. She interposed herself between the _Centaur _and a spread of Borg torpedoes, intercepting them on her secondary hull and saucer. Holes were blown cleanly through her saucer and a nacelle was torn cleanly from the ship, but she had prevented the _Centaur _from taking that damage. Firing phasers as a final, dying gesture, she tore a hole in a Borg sphere before the _Appalachia _blew it to pieces. Then, blazing, the _Al-Batani _was torn apart as her warp core detonated.

The _Centaur _rose up through the explosion. Sheets of weapons fire emerged from her launchers, and the Borg vessels staggered. But then a second volley of torpedoes, like the ones the _Al-Batani _had sacrificed herself to intercept, turned the _Centaur _into little more than wreckage. What little was left of her spun slowly away from the battle.

There was no time to mourn Charlie. Three Federation starships remained, and there were still two dozen Borg vessels closing. The _Hood's _engines gave out now, stranding her in the middle of the battlefield with Borg ships closing on either side. The _Yamato _and _Appalachia _charged outwards, blowing holes in the cubes and spheres as they closed, but the _Appalachia _caught a torpedo on her forward hull. Then another. The ship flipped end over end before Borg energy weapons cut what was left of her hull to pieces. She hung in space, technically intact, but there was no one left alive on board. In a few minutes she would simply disintegrate when her structural integrity failed.

The _Yamato _caught a sphere with phaser fire as it strafed her hull, scorching the sphere's armor. Then a torpedo from the _Hood _punched a hole in the sphere's hull. Desperate, the sphere went into retreat, falling behind two tactical cubes. In pursuit, the _Yamato _put another torpedo into her hull, but was unable to finish the job as the sphere skated away. Caught between the two cubes, each grabbed the _Yamato _in a tractor beam. Their weapons carved through the _Yamato's _hull and a cutting beam blasted through engineering. She exploded violently, and both cubes, still holding her with their tractor beams, joined her.

On the bridge of the _Hood, _communications were down. DeSoto's helmsman was dead, as was his first officer. The only ship left from what had been a fleet of thirty-one, the _Hood_ wheeled to face the enemy. A cube closed, preparing to fire… and then everything stopped. DeSoto breathed out, watching as the Borg ships started to wander around in confusion. Two actually exploded outright. The sphere the _Yamato _had been chasing moved away, fleeing the battlefield. _Neeley. She did it. It's over. It's all over._

Floating amongst what was left of two battle fleets, one destroyed, one forever maimed by the ingenuity of Starfleet engineering and the bravery of Lisa Neeley's team, was the brutally damaged _Hood_, a memorial to those who had lost their lives at the Second Battle of Galahad Point.

From the void of space, the eyes that had watched the _Centaur _charge into the battle now moved from the _Hood _to the crippled sphere, which was running from the events that had taken place. Despite everything, they were filled with a deep satisfaction.


	5. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Tom Paris had barely had time to kiss his wife before they were all shuttled off to the conference lounge for debriefing. Icheb had regained consciousness, and after a thorough scan the Doctor pronounced him fit for duty. All of them were now seated around the conference table, listening as Seven relayed the information they had gathered, the Borg's probable next course of action, and the weaknesses and strengths of a transwarp hub.

"A transwarp hub is a combination of two different structures. First, there are the interspatial manifolds which are used to create the entrance apertures and allow Borg vessels to enter into the transwarp corridors. If enough of them are destroyed, the entire hub structure will lose cohesion. However, they are protected by a number of force fields, maintained by drones controlled by the Queen through the hub's central plexus." Seven tapped the viewer.

"There are six transwarp hubs, but I do not know where the others are located. However, this is the only Borg transwarp hub with Alpha Quadrant exit apertures. Two of the hubs exist in order to allow Borg vessels to travel back and forth from the edges of the Delta Quadrant. A third provides Beta Quadrant exit apertures. A fourth provides Gamma quadrant exit apertures – although the Borg have not yet performed an extensive evaluation there. This is the fifth. I do not know the location or function of the sixth."

Janeway raised her hand. "Seven, I think the question we need to deal with right now is obvious. How do we _destroy _it? We can't allow the Borg to mount an invasion of this scale against the Federation."

Seven's head tilted slightly, then she turned back to the monitor. "In order to destroy the hub, there is only one option. Find and disable the force fields protecting the hub's interspatial manifolds, and then destroy enough manifolds to force the hub to disintegrate." Seven paused and turned back to Janeway. "We have neither the resources nor the time for either, and with the large number of Borg vessels currently stationed at the hub, we could not get close enough to make the attempt."

Seven's pessimism, or maybe it was realism, caused the room to go silent. Janeway scanned her staff, searching for an idea on someone's face. Eventually, she met Icheb's eyes. He looked thoughtful, and troubled. He looked up at her. "Captain, I have a suggestion," he said.

"Go ahead, Cadet."

"I believe I have a way to permanently disrupt the protective shields around the interspatial manifolds and give _Voyager _a window to destroy them. It may also disrupt a number of the Borg cubes protecting the hub and allow _Voyager _to survive the attack." Janeway was stunned. What could Icheb be proposing that even Seven had not thought to suggest? Then she realized what he might propose and her blood froze. "Captain, I suggest that I take a shuttlecraft and infiltrate the hub myself. Once there, I would allow myself to be assimilated by the drones that maintain the hub and infect them with the pathogen built into my genetic structure. It would spread and infect the entire hub and disrupt the drones maintaining the hub's structural defenses and, depending on the level of connection between the hub and the ships protecting it, could spread to some of the other cubes."

Janeway held her hand up before the rest of the room could object. Her heart was recoiling against the very thought of carrying out Icheb's plan. "Icheb, you understand what you are suggesting would be suicide." The young man nodded. "Why would you be willing to give your life for people you have never known? The Federation is not your home." Despite her misgivings, Janeway couldn't afford to say no. Icheb might well be proposing the only possible way out for the Federation.

"Captain… I told you yesterday that _Voyager _was my home. It is true, I think of all of you as my family. I know, that if it was the only option and you knew that it would stop this invasion, that any of you would be willing to give your life to save the Federation and all the people of the Alpha Quadrant. 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.' I am the only one who has the pathogen built into their genetic structure, and only I can neutralize the collective for long enough to allow _Voyager _to destroy the hub." Icheb looked away for a second, then turned back. "And, Captain, attacking the hub with _Voyager _once it is disabled would be no less of a suicide mission."

Janeway nodded once, slowly. "You're right, Icheb. It probably would be, and I'd be asking every member of this crew to be willing to sacrifice their lives for the Federation." She turned and met Tom's eyes, and then B'Elanna's. "Tom, B'Elanna, if I do this I can't ask you to stay, not with a child on the way. You, and Sam Wildman and Naomi, would all be welcome to leave _Voyager _before we began the mission."

"Unacceptable," said Seven. "You cannot allow Icheb to sacrifice his life. He is an individual and every life is to be protected. Allowing Icheb to do on a suicide mission is tantamount to murder." Emotions ran rampant, but controlled, behind Seven's face.

"Seven…" Janeway started, but Icheb cut her off.

"Seven, I know what the risks are. And the consequences. I _am _an individual, and I have the right to decide to go on a mission if I believe it is the right thing to do, even if I know I will not survive." He stopped. "Seven, if you knew that you could save the life and individuality of every drone from Unimatrix Zero at the cost of your own life, _would you do it?" _

Janeway opened her mouth to speak, but stopped as Seven's face fell. The semi-controlled rage was gone, and in its place was despair. "Yes," she said.

Icheb turned to the Doctor. "Doctor, for this to work, the pathogen built into my body will have to spread more quickly than it did naturally when I was first assimilated, and be more virulent. If it is contagious enough and dangerous enough, perhaps enough of the Borg cubes in the vicinity will be infected and _Voyager _will not be destroyed."

"You're asking me to help to commit mass-murder by means of your suicide."

"No. I'm asking you to save billions of lives in the Alpha Quadrant."

"By killing thousands of drones!"

"The Borg are the ones that forced it to come to this, Doctor, not us," said Chakotay. "In the end, if it is a decision between killing thousands of Borg and saving the Federation, or allowing the Federation to be assimilated, there is no choice."

"I am programmed to do no harm!"

"You're not just a computer program anymore, Doctor, and don't pretend you're a slave to your subroutines. You make your own decisions and can weigh the costs of this decision. You're the only one of us that has been to the Alpha Quadrant since we got stranded here. If we do not do this, there will be nothing left there to go home to," Janeway said.

"I…" The Doctor looked around the room. His eyes lingered on Icheb, and then on Seven. "All right. I'll help you, Icheb. We should get started right away."

With that, the meeting was dismissed. The crew dispersed back to their posts, working rigorously on all that would have to be done to prepare for their mission. Janeway retreated to her ready room, pouring over reports and data, looking for a solution, any solution, that would save her ship, her crew, and give Icheb a chance to live. The more she struggled with it, the more it became clear that she would have no luck with it, at least not today, and not under these circumstances. The words of her spirit guide came back to her. _You will not find your peace until after your journey. _And that the journey would soon be over. _I hope that my guide meant the journey would be ending at home in Indiana, and not with the pieces of my ship scattered across the cosmos as the Borg march towards the assimilation of Earth.  
_

* * *

Janeway looked up as several people entered her ready room. First were B'Elanna and Tom, and Samantha Wildman and Naomi followed them in. They all looked a little bit uncomfortable. "Yes? How can I help you?" Janeway said. 

Samantha spoke first. "You gave us all the option of leaving _Voyager _before we departed on this mission. We've come to let you know that we're not going to be leaving."

Janeway stood. "You all understand that this mission is extremely dangerous, and _Voyager _isn't likely to survive, yes?" She knelt down and took Naomi's hand. "Naomi, I can't ask you to stay."

The girl looked up resolutely. "But you can't force me to leave either, Captain. _Voyager _is my home. If all of you are going into danger, I will come along, as I always have before." Janeway stood and faced Sam.

"Sam…"

"Captain. She's right. _Voyager _is our home, and it has been for years. If we go, we go together." Janeway sighed, and turned to Tom and B'Elanna, hoping for some sanity. Tom opened his mouth and spoke before she got the chance.

"Captain, you need the best pilot you've got. That's still me." Beside him, B'Elanna nodded.

"Captain… I'm pregnant, not an invalid. If this is going to work, you're going to need every person you can possibly get your hands on, and the best people. Even pregnant, I'm the best engineer you've got, and whether not I can hold a plasma torch, I can still order Vorik and Nicoletti around just fine." She grinned, a somewhat feral smile. "Maybe better." She met Janeway's eyes. "We're not letting you do this alone, Captain."

Janeway stood and looked them each in the eye. She finally nodded. "Very well. You don't have to go." She turned back to her desk. "But if you're staying, all of you should go get back to work. We don't have a whole lot of time."

"Yes ma'am!" said Naomi. Janeway couldn't help but smile.

* * *

"How soon until you'll be ready, Doctor?" Janeway asked. The EMH was giving her hourly status reports on the progress they'd made in modifying Icheb's genome to increase the ferocity of the pathogen. 

"Captain, I'm playing around with the boy's genetic structure. This isn't something that I'm going to do quickly. I'm going to _need_ another twelve to eighteen hours," he said. They were conversing in his office. Icheb was asleep on a biobed, and Seven was working in Engineering on potentially modifying her parents' multi-adaptive shielding to function on _Voyager._ She wasn't optimistic that they could be used to hide a ship the size of _Voyager,_ but she would try nonetheless.

"All right, Doctor. Twelve hours, but then we leave. One way or the other." She walked from Sickbay and headed towards the officer's quarters. Most of the senior staff was resting. The ship was ready, only Icheb was not. _Oh Icheb. I'm so sorry._ Janeway knew she wouldn't be able to sleep as she arrived at her quarters, and walked past. She passed by Chakotay's quarters – he was one of the few on duty. They had decided before that at least one of the ship's ranking officers should be on the bridge at all times, and that meant him, her, or Tuvok.

She continued walking and came to Tuvok's quarters. She rang the chime, and entered when the door opened. Inside she found Tuvok, sitting in his usual chair. The room was darkened, and Tuvok was pondering a candle that lay before him. "Good evening, Captain," he said. She sat across from him and stared at the dancing flame.

"How did it come to this, Tuvok?" she asked. "Why did it come to this?"

"The how, Captain, is that the Borg decided to invade the Federation, and that Q thought to put us in a position so that we could prevent it. Why is something only the Queen and Q will ever know."

She continued staring into the flame. The glare was beginning to linger on her eyes. "But he put us in a position where only the sacrifice of the crew could possibly do any good. He has to know that. _Voyager _and her crew will have to sacrifice themselves to prevent the destruction of the Federation." She shook her head.

"As Icheb said today during the briefing, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few." He paused. "Or the one." He reached out and snuffed the candle. Janeway looked up at him, the glare fading from her eyes. "Icheb has made his choice. So have you. So have I. And as Commander Chakotay said, Captain, there is no choice. If there is to be a future for our people, for any people in this galaxy, then the Borg must be stopped."

Janeway looked up at him. "Tuvok, sometimes I wish you had left me on that planet, all those years ago," she said. "Before New Earth, I had forgotten what it meant to be anything but a starship captain. In the years since, every once in a while I remember what it was like to be just Kathryn. The life of a captain is filled with regrets."

Tuvok nodded. "Yes, the life of a starship captain can be filled with regrets. Mistakes you made, mistakes you did not make, and mistakes you wish you had made." He took a breath. "Captain, the only decisions you should regret are the decisions you made and knew were wrong when you made them. Your decisions can be judged only by what you knew when you made them. You can look back, having more knowledge now than you did then. Regret only the decisions that were wrong when you made them, not those that are wrong only in hindsight."

Janeway looked up. "Do you regret anything, Tuvok?"

Tuvok met her eyes evenly. "Everyone has regrets, Captain. This situation we are in now, the decisions you have made, that you have been forced to make, should not be one of yours. Do not regret doing what you must do for the greater good of all." Tuvok reached out and relit the candle. "Do not resign yourself yet, Captain. To paraphrase one of Earth's greatest artists: there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

"Thank you, my friend. I'll remember," Janeway said. She stood and patted Tuvok's shoulder, then departed from his quarters.

* * *

"All systems standing by, Captain. We're ready to head out," reported Harry Kim from operations. Her whole crew was standing by. Chakotay was in the seat on her left, Tuvok at tactical. Tom was at the helm. B'Elanna was in engineering, so Ashmore was at the engineering station. At the science station was Icheb – he would depart in the shuttlecraft _Tereshkova _once _Voyager _left the nebula. 

It was time to face the music.

"Baton down the hatches, people. Mr. Paris, take us out, half impulse." She stood. "All hands, this is the Captain. We're preparing to set out to engage the Borg. Remember what is depending on us back home and what will happen if the Borg assimilate the Federation." She took a breath. "I offer the crew this salute once offered by one of our own: 'We do not stand alone. We are in the arms of family. We gather to extol the warmth and joy of these unshakeable bonds. Without them we could not call ourselves complete. We are thankful to be together. We do not stand alone'" She paused, letting Neelix's traditional Prixin toast linger. "I'm very proud of all of you. Janeway out."

_Voyager _burst from the cloud of gas and dust, trails of it trembling behind her. The hull was scorched and scarred – seven years of battle damage had left their mark on the proud ship – but thanks to years of scrounging and patched maintenance by B'Elanna Torres, there was nothing wrong with her engines. 

Behind her, in the dark of the nebula, lurked another ship. Its hull, too, was scorched, and gaping holes had been blown in the sides. But its weapons were still functioning, and it had been waiting for this moment.

* * *

"Captain, there's something odd with my sensors – it looks like some kind of sensor ghost. An echo of _Voyager, _perhaps," remarked Harry Kim. He fiddled with his sensors some more. "I'm not sure…" 

"Tuvok, what is it?" Janeway asked.

"I am unable to say with any certainty. However, I do not believe it to be a sensor ghost. It appears to be another vessel of some kind," said Tuvok. Janeway glanced at Chakotay, and turned back to Harry.

"You've got to do better than that, Ensign."

"I'm working to resolve the data… Captain, it's on an intercept course." When Harry spoke again, he was frantic. "Captain, it's a Borg sphere! They jumped out of the nebula behind us and are closing to weapons range."

"Bring us about, Mr. Paris. Tuvok, target their weapons and engines. Find a weapons frequency that will work on them and then knock em' out. Harry, modulate the shields." As her officers responded with affirmatives, _Voyager _shook as the sphere opened fire. "Damage report, Mr. Ashmore," Janeway demanded.

"Captain, they're focusing their weapons fire on our nacelles. I think their goal is to knock out our engines," Ashmore said. "Lieutenant Torres reports the port nacelle has sustained minor damage."

"Tuvok, we can't afford to lose our engines, not right now. If we do we'll never get to the hub in time to stop the Borg. Take out their weapons!" Janeway barked. Beside her, Chakotay was staring at something on the control panel. He suddenly stood and hurried over to the science station, bracing himself as the ship shook, and began conversing animatedly with Icheb.

Janeway had no attention to spare, however. "Captain, the shields around the port nacelle are buckling. Another shot like that and it's likely to take significant damage. The warp core is offline!" shouted Kim. Then, suddenly, it all stopped. Janeway turned to Tuvok, who looked over to his Captain.

"The Borg sphere has ceased firing. Its weapons and engines have been disabled. Captain, the sphere has undoubtedly alerted the collective to our presence. We cannot remain here," said Tuvok. His hands remained at the ready on his tactical console, looking for the slightest inclination of Borg activity on the disabled sphere. There was none.

"No, Tuvok. There will be no more drones on the way," Icheb said, standing with Chakotay at the science station. Janeway walked over to their station and began to peruse the data her first officer and Icheb had gathered during the combat. "This sphere is not in contact with the collective. Its central plexus is not functioning," said Icheb, glancing at Chakotay. "The drones aboard were not a part of the collective, and there seemed to be only a few of them – far too few to man a typical sphere. The ship itself also appears to be heavily damaged, which is why Commander Tuvok managed to disable it so easily."

"The drones on that sphere aren't part of the collective?" asked Janeway. As Icheb began to respond, Janeway held up a hand. "Wait. First things first," she said. She tapped her combadge. "B'Elanna, what's the status of the warp drive?"

_"It's not good, Captain. We're looking at ten to twelve hours of work. We'll never make it in time,"_ B'Elanna said over the comm. The bridge crew looked at one another. Harry's hand fell limply on his panel. Without warp drive, they couldn't reach the transwarp hub before the fleet departed for the Alpha Quadrant. Couldn't attack the hub after Icheb left it vulnerable. Couldn't save Earth.

"So it's over then. We can't stop the Borg," said Harry. "They're just going to waltz into an unsuspecting Alpha Quadrant and assimilate our home, and there's nothing we can _do _about it?" The agony in Harry's voice struck a chord in Janeway. She knew how he felt. But she wasn't about to give up just yet.

"No, Harry. We're not out of it yet." Janeway turned to Chakotay. "Take a team over there. Find out whatever you can about the sphere, and any information about the drones aboard. Figure out what you can about how it got separated from the collective and if we can use that to our advantage. I want to know why it was here."

Chakotay nodded. "Aye, Captain." He turned. "Tuvok, you're with me. Bring a full security detachment, and have Mulcahey meet us in the transporter room. Harry, I'm going to route any data we collect to you and Seven for analysis. I don't want to do it over there." Chakotay met Janeway's eyes, and then strode over to the turbolift. "Deck 4."

* * *

A few short minutes later, Seven and Harry were talking with Janeway in astrometrics. "Captain, from the information about the drones aboard the Sphere, I agree with Icheb's assessment. These drones were severed from the collective. They were functioning as individuals." 

"What could have disrupted the collective, Seven?" asked Janeway.

"I do not know. This data suggests there was a shock transmitted through the collective, permanently breaking the collective's hold on the drones aboard by disabling their neural transceivers. It was most likely an intentional attack on the collective by an outside force." She turned. "It appears someone has devised a weapon that can sever the Borg collective and force all drones back into a state of individuality."

"Uh, Captain… there's something else here you should see," said Harry, cutting Seven off. He'd been focused on his console, although he'd kept up with Seven's short brief. "I've been scanning the Borg sphere, and I'm not sure what Seven has suggested is exactly correct."

"What do you mean, Harry?" Janeway asked.

"Well, while Seven is right about the drones having been severed from the collective, I don't think they were ever part of the collective here," he said. He pointed at the viewer on his console. "The sphere is emitting massive amounts of chronoton particles. It's definitely not from this time period. I think it's from the future." He looked up. "The sphere came from the future to prevent our attack on the hub. That's the only explanation that makes sense." Harry looked over. "Something happened in the future and broke all the drones free from the collective. Sometime after that, this sphere decided to travel through time to stop us from attacking the hub. Maybe they're related?"

Janeway tapped the console with her finger as she thought. "Yes, I assume that the sphere has come from the future to change the past. But I don't know why a group of freed drones would be so insistent on preventing the destruction of a Borg transwarp hub, or how it could relate to the destruction of the collective," Janeway mused. She looked up at the monitor. "Someone on that sphere was desperate to stop the destruction of the hub. I want to know who, and why, and I want to know as soon as possible. I think you're right, Harry, somehow it is related to the destruction of the Borg's collective mind in the future." She turned back to Seven. "Seven, have the Borg ever used time travel in an attempt to change the past before?" she asked.

"Yes. Once. Stardate 50893.5 – the Borg mounted an attack on Earth with a single cube. When a Federation armada in Sector 001 destroyed the cube, it launched a sphere that created a temporal vortex. It traveled back in time to prevent the flight of the _Phoenix, _an event that would eventually lead to the creation of the Federation. The attempt was unsuccessful."

"So the Queen _has_ tried this before."

"Yes." Seven turned her attention to the console. "The chronoton radiation is consistent with the method of time travel used by the Borg in their attempt to prevent First Contact. I believe this sphere has traveled back in time approximately… fifteen years."

_So they've come back fifteen years to prevent _Voyager _from attacking the transwarp hub, _Janeway thought. _That suggests in their timeline we were successful and prevented the invasion. Good to know. But how can we stop them now?_ A sudden thought occurred to her. _Q said the only one who was up to standing up to the Borg on their terms was Kirk. Was it a hint? _"Seven, what do you know about the slingshot effect?"

"A theoretical method of primitive time travel. A starship travels at high warp towards a star. The gravitational effect of the star causes the ship to travel forwards or backwards in time, depending on very precise calculations. It has never been tested by the Borg, as other methods of time travel are far more precise," Seven stated.

"Can you calculate a slingshot trajectory which would send _Voyager_ forward in time more than fifteen years, and then reverse the procedure?" asked Janeway quietly. "If the Borg on that sphere can cheat, then damn it, so can we."

"I do not know. It is possible."

"Get to work on it, Seven. Maybe we could use whatever broke the collective in the future to break it now. Or we could find technologies in the future to come back and defeat the Borg with. We need more time, and if the Borg can do it then so can we."

"Captain," said Harry. "What about the temporal prime directive? It specifically states that no one can interfere with the timeline, no matter what actions other parties take to change events."

"Harry, you never heard me say this. But to hell with it," said Janeway. Seven's eyebrows raised and Harry smiled.

"Aye, Captain."

_"Chakotay to Janeway."_ Chakotay's disembodied voice came through the comm. _"You'd better get over here, Captain. Bring Seven with you. There's something here I think you should see."_ Janeway glanced at Seven, and jerked her head at the door. Then both of them set off at a brisk pace.

* * *

When Janeway and Seven materialized on the sphere, the Captain immediately strode over to Chakotay. He wore a look that was half bewildered, half serious. He gestured behind him to a room that had once been the sphere's command center. Janeway walked in. "Most of the drones here were dead. A few put up token resistance. But what you need to see is over here." He ushered them into a secondary room, one plastered with viewscreens and information terminals. Janeway stopped dead. Behind her, she felt Seven do the same. 

Lying on the floor of the room was the corpse of the Borg Queen.

"It's all starting to make sense," Janeway murmured. "Only one individual Borg would be so insistent on coming back and stopping us. Her." Janeway smiled humorlessly. "If nothing else, she hates me. And she has the most to lose from the destruction of the collective." She stepped aside as Seven walked over to examine the dead Queen. "Chakotay, this ship came from the future to stop us from destroying the transwarp hub. _She_ came back in time to stop it." Chakotay glanced around the room.

"What about the fact that none of these drones were part of the collective? Why would they help her?" he asked. "For that matter, how was the collective destroyed?"

Janway shook her head. "We're not sure yet if or how the collective's defeat in the future relates to our attack on the transwarp hub. Icheb's pathogen isn't capable of causing the kind of damage we see in these drones. As for the other Borg helping her…" Janeway gestured to the other Borg corpses. "You remember how Seven was at first. Some of them probably stayed loyal after they became individuals."

"So what are we going to do about it? We're out of time. She _has_ prevented the destruction of the hub. We can't attack it in time to stop the invasion." Chakotay said.

"Well, we've only got one option left that I can see. We're going to buy ourselves some more time." She gave him her crooked grin, and his lips twitched up in response. "You were telling me that you thought I was a lot like Captain Kirk. Well, Chakotay, we're going to find out." She knelt down over the corpse of the Queen. "Welcome to the past, your highness," she whispered. "It appears the future wasn't kind to you. I'm going to make it even worse."


	6. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

Janeway was headed back to astrometrics. Repairs on the warp engines were top priority and going smoothly with B'Elanna's guidance – _Voyager_ couldn't perform the slingshot to the future without them working near optimal levels – so most of the crew was working round-the-clock to get the drive running. However, a few were working on the calculations for the slingshot itself. Hopefully, if all went well, they would be done both for the trip to the future, and hopefully for the trip back to the present, shortly before the engines were ready.

Nevertheless, Janeway was headed to check on Seven's progress. Seven had recruited several members of the crew to assist in the calculations and Janeway was curious to see how the process was going. _Not to mention more than a little desperate. If Seven can't figure out how to make this work, it's all over for Starfleet. For home._

She slipped through the doors to the astrometrics lab and glanced around. Seven was working at her normal station. Next to her was Harry, who was very good with this kind of spatial mathematics, as he'd proven with their failed quantum slipstream experiment – there had been no right answer, back then, and she didn't hold their failure against him. On the other side of the lab was Icheb, pouring over data. Next to him was… _Mortimer Harren? What is he doing here?_ The answer came to her quickly: despite everything, Harren _was _very, very good with mathematical equations. This was a project that would appeal to him. _And it gets him out of B'Elanna's hair. Maybe he and Seven will bond over this existential calculus and we'll transfer him to astrometrics._

"Oh. Good afternoon, Captain," Harry said, looking up as he heard the doors swish closed behind her as she entered.

"Hello, Harry. How is it progressing?" she asked. In the corner of her eye, she saw Harren surreptitiously glance at her, and then just as surreptitiously turn back to his console, placing his back towards her. She almost laughed. _Well, as long as he's getting the work done._

"We are progressing with high efficiency. The calculations will be finished in approximately 2.5 hours, Captain," said Seven, taking only a second to glance over at her captain. Janeway's eyebrows rose.

"That's a good two hours ahead of your previous estimate, Seven. What changed?"

"Crewman Harren volunteered to assist us when he heard we were calculating a slingshot trajectory. He has an interest in temporal warp mechanics." Seven turned back to her calculations. "Once we have completed the slingshot calculations, we will divert our resources to repairing the warp engines. Your presence is unnecessary."

Janeway's eyebrows rose higher. "Unnecessary, is it? Well, I suppose so. I'll leave you people to your work." She grinned. "Good job, Crewman Harren. I'll have to put you up for a promotion." As she turned and exited the lab, she saw him spin around, a shocked and frightened look on his face. She barely managed to hold back her laughter until after the doors slid closed.

* * *

Janeway spent the next four hours being B'Elanna's hands in engineering. Her chief engineer currently lacked the physical mobility to get to the places where the work really needed to be done, and Janeway's engineering skills made her an ideal choice to help B'Elanna. Moreover, anyone else would also have been subject to B'Elanna's wrath when she said something that went completely over their heads, but as captain Janeway was not on the top of B'Elanna's list for "people she'd like to yell at." Besides, Janeway usually knew what B'Elanna was talking about. 

Eventually, most of the work was finished and Janeway was headed back to the bridge. By Icheb and Seven's estimates, they had six, maybe seven hours before the Queen began her invasion. That meant, assuming they got back from the future just minutes after they left the present, that would give them just a few hours to get to the hub and put whatever they manage to scrounge from the future to good use. They desperately needed to find something in the future to make the ship faster. _I feel like Henry Starling, headed to the future in the hopes I can find something I can understand and use in the present. _Janeway thought._ I bet Captain Braxton must really hate me right now. I hope the temporal police don't show up and tell me I have to let the Borg assimilate humanity. _She snorted at the ridiculousness of the thought. _I think I'd shoot them._

"Captain!" exclaimed someone from behind her. She turned. It was Harry, who jogged up to catch her. "When do we leave, ma'am?" he asked.

"As soon as I get to the bridge, Mr. Kim. We have no time to lose, and I intend to make sure that every second we have available is put to good use." They entered the turbolift, which proceeded to head up to the bridge.

"What do you think we'll find in the future, Captain?" he asked as the lift rose.

"To be honest, Mr. Kim, I haven't the slightest idea. We'll just have to figure out where and when we are after the slingshot and work our way forward from there. We're looking for anything useful that will help us stop the Queen."

"I was thinking about what you said about the temporal prime directive," Harry said. "I was wondering what exactly you meant by it."

"Harry, in our sickbay we've got the Borg queen from fifteen years in our future. She's come back in time to stop us from destroying her transwarp hub – and for the time being, she's succeeded, because we can't destroy the hub in time to save the Federation. But when she did that, she opened up all kinds of doors into possibilities that none of us had considered." Janeway shrugged. "I don't know what we'll find, Harry. But the temporal prime directive went out the window when the Queen decided to play games with the timeline. Now it's up to us to do what we can to make sure she doesn't create a timeline where everyone in the galaxy wears cybernetic implants." Janeway stopped. "I expect we'll find the Borg transwarp hub, with whatever damage we did to it, and a Borg collective which has been shattered by some other unknown outside force. We just need to find out what we need to come back and stop the Queen, once and for all. Right now, Harry, everything else is secondary." The turbolift doors slid open and Janeway marched out.

"Mr. Paris, do you have the data from astrometrics for the slingshot jump?" she asked, settling into her captain's chair behind Tom and next to Chakotay.

"Yes ma'am. We're rearing and ready to go," he said. One of his fingers tapped excitedly on the keyboard. "I've always wanted to try this," he said.

"Well then, Mr. Paris. Do it," she ordered. She reached over and patted Chakotay's shoulder. "Only one captain in the history of Starfleet has ever pulled this little stunt, Chakotay, and Starfleet Command swore they'd court-martial anyone else who ever tried," she whispered. Her crooked grin sharply contrasted the content of her words.

Chakotay grinned back. "We'll talk them out of it when we get back. I think they'll forgive us when we tell them that they had a choice between assimilation and a minor violation of the temporal prime directive."

"Warp 9, we're entering the star's gravitational well," Paris commented from the helm. The bridge began to shake.

"Have you ever read the ship's motto?" Janeway asked. She reached over and her hand had found Chakotay's, letting his strength seep into her through the skin.

"Alfred Tennyson. I don't have it memorized, sorry Captain."

"For I dipt in to the future, far as human eye could see; Saw the vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be," she quoted to him. "Oddly appropriate, don't you think?" The ship began to shake a little bit more. "Steady as she goes, Mr. Paris. If Jim Kirk could pull off a slingshot in a 23rd century Klingon Bird of Prey, then you can do it with Starfleet's finest engines." Tom didn't bother to respond.

Chakotay tightened his grip on her fingers, regaining her attention as the star loomed closer on the viewscreen. "For a captain who swore she would never get involved in any temporal paradoxes, you sure have got a knack for them," he said.

She grinned. "True." _Voyager's _fate was in the hands of the calculations which Seven, Harry, and Harren had done, B'Elanna's engines, and Tom's piloting. _Voyager _rocketed towards the star, surrounded by the nebula in which they had spent the last few days hiding, and shimmered as they fell out of synch with time.

* * *

The crew around her began to recover from the timewarp. The maneuver was exceptionally disconcerting, and all around the bridge the officers struggled to regain their composure. "When are we?" asked Janeway, shaking off the last of the effects. She turned back towards Harry, who was buried in his console, struggling to make sense of the data. She stood up and walked over to ops to join him. 

"I'm not exactly sure, ma'am. At least fourteen years. No more than eighteen. That's all I can give you right now," Harry finally said. Janeway turned away. "Wait, Captain… there's something else here on short range sensors. The nebula is making it difficult to see anything, this soup is so thick… but there's definitely some free object in orbit around one of the planetoids in this system. It wasn't there before the slingshot."

"Can we get it on viewer? Tom, put us in orbit along with that object. I have a feeling whatever it is will be important and could tell us quite a lot about where we are and what has happened in the last twelve to eighteen years." Tom acknowledged the orders, and _Voyager _swung into orbit. "Harry, can we get a visual yet?" Janeway asked as she turned back to face the main viewer.

"Just a second ma'am. I think… yes! I think I've got visual. Hold on, I'm going to try to put it on the viewscreen." The image was staticy at first and Janeway wasn't sure what she was looking at. But as the image resolved just a little bit, her heart stopped. Then Harry managed to clean it up, and everyone recognized it.

Hanging on the viewer, just barely managed to keep orbit, was a wreck that bore the name _USS Voyager, _NCC-74656. For a few long seconds, everyone was silent. Janeway stood slowly, and finally turned away from the viewer to face Harry. "Lifesigns?" she whispered.

"None." Harry's voice was soft and pained.

"What's her status?" asked Janeway, her voice regaining some of the assertiveness it had lost when she first saw the crippled, dead _Voyager _that belonged to this future.

Tuvok spoke first. "The other _Voyager _has only minimal power to maneuvering thrusters. I believe all of her energy reserves are being devoted to the maintenance of her computer core. I am attempting to access it." Tuvok paused. "Many of the files appear to be corrupted. I do not wish to attempt a data transfer with a remote link, as we may destabilize the files. We should go aboard and interface with the computer directly." Janeway looked up. _What are we going to find over there? The fate of another Voyager? Our own fate, if the Queen hadn't taken it upon herself to change the timeline? _Janeway didn't really want to know what was over on the other _Voyager_, a ship that had been created by actions that she had been resolved to take, but had never taken because of the untimely arrival of the Queen. In the end, though, it was still her ship. Her crew. Her responsibility.

"Tuvok, you're going to come with me. Have Seven meet us in the transporter room. The three of us will salvage what we can and find out…" her voice choked for a second, but she forced herself to finish the sentence. "Find out what happened to her." She nodded once. "All right. We're here. Lets get to work."

* * *

Janeway, Seven, and Tuvok assembled in the transporter room. Behind the panel was Lieutenant Nicoletti, who was checking the controls. Before them stood Chakotay and Torres. "Captain, we've managed to stabilize the other_ Voyager's _power supply. Life support is functional and the computer core is no longer in danger of permanent failure. You'll have free reign of the ship, but…" B'Elanna paused. "The shuttlebay was completely destroyed. There's nothing left of it. There's a hull breach on Deck 15 that stretches all way along the underbelly of the ship, and the deck is completely open to space. There are subsequent breaches on other decks. I wouldn't go down any lower than Deck 12, just to be safe." 

"All right, B'Elanna. What _is _intact over there?" Janeway asked.

"Most of the primary hull is intact without serious damage. But Captain, you won't be able to go to any of the crew quarters on Deck 2, including yours. They're completely open to space." Janeway winced. "There's not a whole lot else I can tell you from here, Captain. You just need to watch out for other damage. The nebula is still wreaking havoc with our sensors."

Janeway nodded. "Noted," she said. "Ok Tuvok, Seven, ready to go?" Tuvok nodded and stepped on the transporter pad. Seven glanced at him, then the Captain, and then followed. Janeway turned to follow them both and Chakotay stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Yes, Commander?"

"Be careful over there, Captain. Remember – that isn't our _Voyager. _What happened to them isn't going to happen to us," he said. His voice was serious, and she could feel the concern emanating from him. She nodded and stepped on the transporter pad.

"Energize, Ms. Nicoletti," Janeway ordered. Nicoletti rested her fingers on the transporter console, and then slid them upwards to initiate the transport. The classic blue light of a transporter beam surrounded each of the away team.

When the typical tingling sensation that accompanied transport faded, Janeway found herself and her companions in a room identical to the one she had left. But there was damage here – the transporter controls were blown to pieces. Two of the six transporter pads had sunken into the floor. The back of the room and the transporter circuitry looked like someone had taken a plasma torch and hosed them down. Janeway took a deep breath. "Come on," she said quietly. Tuvok lead the way into the corridor. The walls were blackened with energy scars and the hallway black. The only light came from their standard-issue flashlights.

They decided that their first course of action should be to find out which parts of the ship were habitable, and which, like Deck 2 and Deck 15, were open to space. Since they had beamed into the transporter room, the three of them slowly made their way down a deck to get to sickbay. Tuvok tried multiple access panels, but none were working, and neither were the sickbay doors. Seven forced the door open, and they went inside.

Sickbay was a mess, but someone had cleaned it up since the ship had taken the majority of the damage. It was cleaner than the transporter room had been, but battle damage scarred the walls. The primary access panels were completely destroyed, Janeway noticed, having overloaded while the ship was in combat. The Doctor's office was relatively undamaged, though. Tuvok went through each room, checking consoles, and then departed sickbay to examine the rest of the ship. Seven and Janeway ended up back in the Doctor's office.

"Seven, can you access the main computer from here?" Janeway asked. Seven walked and leaned down over the small computer that sat on the desk. She pressed a couple buttons, and it came back to life. "It seems power is returning to the damaged systems, at least…" Janeway said. Seven continued working the console as Janeway returned to the main room of sickbay and tried to access the EMH. She shook her head in disgust as the holo-projectors fizzled out. "This isn't going to work," she muttered.

She turned back to the office when Seven called her name. "Captain, I believe I have accessed the main computer. This _Voyager _did attack the transwarp hub and was not intercepted by the Queen's sphere. I am attempting to access the memory files for the period immediately prior to this _Voyager's _attack on the transwarp hub and anything that occurred after that stardate." She turned. "There has been no activity on board this vessel, computer or otherwise, for fifteen years, six months, and twelve days. I believe the Doctor initiated final shutdown," Seven said flatly. "It appears that _Voyager _survived the attack on the hub intact, but crippled, and her main systems gave out shortly thereafter."

"How many…" Janeway stopped. She tried again. "How many people survived the attack on the hub?" she asked. Seven stopped and looked up at Janeway.

"Five. They died when the ship's life support gave out. Without a shuttlebay, and with secondary and tertiary power offline, there was no way to abandon the ship. Even if they had, it is unlikely an escape pod would be able to navigate out of the nebula," she said flatly.

"Do you know who, Seven?" Janeway asked. Seven turned her head and moved back to the computer. She attempted to access the data, but eventually stood back up.

"I am unable to determine. However, if we were able to find and activate the Doctor's program, he would be able to tell us. His final log entry reports that he buried the last of the surviving crew before deactivating his program."

Janeway looked away. She nodded. "Very well, Seven. Let's find Tuvok and then go back to our _Voyager _to analyze the data we have here," she said. Her combadge beeped. She tapped it. "Janeway here."

_"This is Tuvok, Captain. I require your assistance in the morgue." _A sinking feeling flooded through Janeway. She glanced at Seven, whose emotionless visage was little comfort, then lead them towards the exit.

* * *

Janeway and Seven entered slowly. The morgue was never pleasant even in the best of times on _Voyager_, but this room had an odorless stench of death. On their _Voyager _it was usually empty. Here, it was a tomb. Tuvok stood next to one of the chambers. He looked up as they entered. "There are… five corpses here, Captain. The Doctor's mobile emitter is in the sixth chamber." Tuvok's usually stoic demeanor was even more so than usual. 

"He buried himself?" Janeway said quietly, torn between horror and a terrible sympathy. She found herself unable to speak, and knelt down on the floor of the morgue as tears threatened to overwhelm her. Tuvok knelt down next to her, and placed his hand on her arm. _Oh my God, what have I done?_

"Captain." Tuvok's voice penetrated her sorrow and self-loathing. "Captain, you must not let this overwhelm you," he whispered. "The crew needs you, now, more than ever. We did what we had to do to ensure the survival of the Federation, and our sacrifices were not in vain." Janeway looked up at him and said nothing. Then together, they rose to their feet.

"What do we do about the Doctor?" asked Seven. "He is not dead, his program is stable. We should retrieve him from the stasis chambers." Janeway glanced at Tuvok, who looked uncomfortable. _He buried himself in the morgue with his dead comrades. He locked himself in the morgue and deactivated himself. How do I justify retrieving him?_

"Seven… I'm not sure it's right to retrieve him," she finally said.

Seven looked at her. "Captain… the Doctor has all the answers. He knows what happened to this ship and the crew. He will be able to tell us how _Voyager _defeated the hub in his past, what weaknesses it has, and how the Borg managed to find and cripple _Voyager _and her crew as they did. That information may not be in the computer logs. We need him if our mission is to succeed." Janeway looked away. Seven was right, of course, the Doctor would be an invaluable resource. But somehow, standing here in her ship's morgue, with the ghosts of her dead crew and the bodies of five of the finest men and women Starfleet had ever known, she just couldn't bring herself to disturb the dead. Her dead. Janeway slowly, tiredly, exited the morgue. Behind her, Tuvok followed, concerned.

* * *

Left alone, Seven looked at each of the stasis chambers. Finally, she stood, and opened the first. Inside was Harry, dressed in his operations uniform. On his collar, he wore lieutenant's pips. She did not take much time to contemplate his countenance, but she fervently hoped that Harry had received his pips when was alive to feel pride in the accomplishment. Seven had never understood his obsession with rank. He didn't need the pips… but she was grateful, looking down, that he wore them now. 

The second chamber contained Ensign Jenkins. Seven had never known Rose Jenkins, but she had been a friend to many, including Harry and Tom. She had been the night shift pilot, and a very good pilot. She'd grown up on the _Enterprise_, and had always said being on _Voyager _wasn't much different although they never held "Captain Janeway Day." She always insisted that it was a tragedy they didn't. She attended the child's science project when the Borg children had been on board, and had made instant friends of the children. She said the crew of the _Enterprise _had always made her feel at home and loved, and that it was her chance to do the same for someone else.

The third chamber held another crewman Seven had not known well, Tal Celes. The Bajoran had served under her in astrometrics, and had been woefully underskilled for the position. Seven regarded Tal's lifeless face, and her control over her emotions slipped. Her face fell, regarding this woman who had served _her_, but a woman she had never bothered to know. Guilt rose up inside her, mourning the death of a woman who had always been friendly, if inept and timid. She closed the chamber slowly.

In the next chamber Seven found Kathryn Janeway, and she lost the control she held so closely, and a few tears slipped down her face. This woman was alive, as were all of them were alive, but she was staring at the corpse of a woman who had given her everything – her life, her individuality, and a chance to make something of them both. Seven quickly closed the last chamber, unable to look upon her captain any longer. She stopped, and leaned up against the wall of the morgue, struggling with her humanity. _These people are alive. These people are alive. These people are alive._

In the last chamber Seven found Naomi Wildman.

In her grief, sobbing in the corner of the morgue, Seven did not hear the sixth chamber open of it's own volition, activated automatically by her activity in the morgue. Nor did she recognize the distinctive sound of a hologram being activated, or the sound made as it closed it's own chamber and sealed Naomi's body back into her tomb. But she looked up when it knelt beside her.

The Doctor looked at her, wide-eyed. He appeared to be conflicted about what to say – he had never expected to be activated again, but had made sure that he would be if anyone violated these graves. The woman sobbing over Naomi was one who was dead, one he had mourned sorrowfully, but she was too real to be an illusion. And holograms did not hallucinate.

"Come on," he finally said, and reached for her hand.

* * *

They emerged from the morgue and slowly made their way to sickbay. The Doctor supported Seven's weight, helping her along. Her tears had stopped, but her shock remained, and he was astonished at the strength of her grief. Together, they slid through the sickbay doors, still locked open from when Seven had forced them earlier, and he placed her on one of the beds. From the table he took a hypospray and it hissed as he pressed it against her neck. It had been fifteen years since he'd last stepped in this sickbay, but time passed quickly when you were deactivated. He turned on the sickbay lights. 

Two people rushed out of his office when he did. Tuvok had his hand on his phaser, and Captain Janeway charged forward, and stopped when she recognized him. "Doctor?" She glanced at Seven, now lying asleep on the biobed. "Did she activate you?"

"Yes and no. She… looked into the burial chambers in the morgue. I programmed myself to activate if they were ever tampered with." He looked down on her sleeping face. "She was… overwhelmed by some of what she found," he said quietly. Janeway looked away, and was about to ask, but he cut in first. "Captain… not to sound rude, but what are you doing here? You…" He winced. "Your body is one of those in the morgue," he said.

Janeway grimaced. "We're from the past, Doctor. The Borg Queen traveled back in time to prevent _Voyager's _attack on the transwarp hub. We came to the future to find out why, and to find anything we could use to counter the damage she did to the timeline," she said. The Doctor nodded slowly. Janeway turned to Tuvok. "I don't think he's any threat, Tuvok. Why don't you make your way to the main computer core and download whatever you can back to _Voyager._" Tuvok looked uncomfortably from her to the Doctor, then nodded reluctantly and left. She turned back to the EMH.

"Captain… in this timeline, the attack on the transwarp hub was successful. Afterwards, the five survivors, stranded aboard a dying _Voyager _with no way to escape, worked to construct a message beacon to send a message to Starfleet Command and warn them of the Borg threat. That was more than fifteen years ago." He looked at her. "After that, Captain, the survivors lived aboard _Voyager, _trying to get the thrusters working again, to enhance escape pod sensors and engines, anything to get out of the nebula. Eventually, their time ran out." He looked away. "Before life support failed, I injected each with a hypospray to ensure that they wouldn't wake up before the air gave out. Then Captain Janeway…. you… and I worked to transfer all emergency power to the computer system to ensure that the ship's memory files would survive and that _Voyager's _orbit would not decay. After that…" The Doctor's voice trailed off.

Janeway nodded. "Doctor, I have to know. Who survived the attack?"

The future EMH looked away. "You did, for one. As did Ensign Kim. You two were the only senior officers who lived, although Ensign Jenkins and Crewman Celes also lived through the attack on the hub. The last survivor…" The Doctor looked down. "Naomi Wildman was the fifth survivor."

Janeway gasped, and her hand covered her mouth. She turned away. _Not Naomi. Oh, please… I sent Icheb to his death for the "betterment of all" and Naomi survived our suicide, only to die a slow death along with _Voyager_. Her 'home.' _"Oh, Doctor," she whispered. She lifted herself onto one of the empty biobeds. "That's who Seven found, isn't it," she said.

"She found all five of you. Naomi was the last," the Doctor said. He sat beside her. "If it's any consolation, Captain, we think the message got through to Starfleet. The Federation knew the Borg were coming, and we sent them all the data we had on the threat. _Voyager's _crew might have died, but we gave the Federation a chance to fight back and defeat the Borg. If we hadn't been here, if we hadn't done what we did, there would surely have been no Alpha Quadrant to go home to, Captain."

"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to know you better, Doctor. I promised I would, but then all this happened and…" he interrupted her.

"Captain, we spent more time together on this ship than I ever could have hoped after the attack, and I consider you a true friend and the bravest woman I've ever known. I'm sorry I never told you that, before you died," he said. "But then, there are a lot of things I regret never doing." He paused. "Come here, Captain. There's something you should see." The two of them walked over to his office, and he let her sit in his chair. He tapped a few buttons, and a screen came up and demanded a password. "These are your personal logs, Captain. The computer core was damaged, and all your old logs were lost about two weeks after the attack. You started this file after that happened. I thought you might like to read some of them. They're all text, not audio."

Janeway smiled mournfully, wiping tracks from her earlier tears from her face. "What's the password?" she asked.

The Doctor shrugged. "I don't know, exactly. I once asked my Captain the same question, after a few weeks aboard. She told me it was the only thing she still truly regretted." He looked at her solemnly. "I never asked again after that." He turned to leave and go check on Seven, but as he left the office, he looked back at her. "I know it wasn't the hub, Captain. Despite everything, she never regretted that. And you shouldn't either." With that, he exited the office.

Tuvok returned and entered the office before she could ponder it. She looked up at him. "I've found and downloaded the computer core, Captain. Our mission here is finished. There is nothing else aboard worth salvaging." He turned and looked back at the Doctor, who was watching over Seven. "Is he going to be coming with us?" he asked. Janeway shrugged.

"I don't know. I'll ask him when we leave," she said. She looked up at her oldest friend. "Tuvok, have I ever made a decision that I should look back on and regret?" she asked. "You told me that judgments should themselves be judged by the information you had when you made the choice. Have I made any decisions in the last seven years I should regret?"

Tuvok looked at her steadily. "You have never made a decision you should regret, Captain. Something always kept you from making decisions that you knew to be in error." He paused. "There is one choice you made that was not a mistake, but you regret it regardless. That too, can be a true regret." He stood and turned to leave. "I will return to _Voyager _and inform the crew that we have finished our task in this system. I will study the sensor data and try to determine our next course of action." He tapped his combadge. "Tuvok to _Voyager, _one to beam up." He dematerialized.

Janeway turned back to the computer on the desk that held all her thoughts from the weeks after her ship had been destroyed and her crew killed. She found it hard to believe that she had never regretted the decision to attack the hub. She stared hard at the computer, thinking about what her last regret could be. Suddenly, it struck her like a thunderbolt, as she thought about what her life would have been like on this _Voyager_, with five helpless crewmen and only the knowledge that they had done what they had to do to sustain them. And Tuvok's last remark. _One choice that was not wrong but that I regret anyway. Something I regret even now._

She felt her eyes prick with tears and she knew. Her hands dropped and she entered in eight digits, and watched sadly as the screen came to life.

* * *

The Doctor sat patiently at Seven's bedside, waiting for her to awaken from the emotion-induced slumber that had her lying on the biobed. The Captain sat in his office, looking sad but lacking the desperation and guilt that had plagued her when he had come in, and he knew that she would be all right, eventually. Next to him, Seven stirred and regained his focus. She too, would be all right. Nevertheless, there were things he needed to tell her, things he needed to do, before she returned to her _Voyager_. 

He would not be going with her. He had already decided that when he learned who they were. They were not his crew, and she was not his Seven. His _Voyager _was long dead and his place was here, protecting and guarding the end of their journey, here in this nebula that would have to suffice for home.

Seven's eyes were now open. "Hello," he said. She sat up.

"You are the Doctor from this _Voyager,_" she said. He nodded. "You activated when I viewed the bodies in the morgue." He nodded again. He'd forgotten how brusque she could be. Then again, he supposed it was understandable, considering the circumstances. "You know who we are and why we are here?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "Now sit, Seven. I will not be coming back to _Voyager _with you – if nothing else, it would not be fair to my alternate self. I belong here. But there are things you need to hear," he said. "I saw you mourning Naomi. You should know that she mourned you, too. She spent days crying over you, and her mother, Commander Chakotay, and everyone who had died. If not for Ensign Jenkins and Crewman Celes, I'm not sure she would have ever pulled out of her depression, but she did eventually. They knew that they would all die eventually, Seven. There was no way to get off the ship, and even if we had, there was no place to go. Captain Janeway once asked her if she wished she had left _Voyager _when the Captain had asked her to, but she shook her head and said that her place was here, as it had always been. It was her home, and there was no where else she wanted to be." He smiled. "She was… is… a remarkable girl, Seven. When you return to your ship, make sure you give her a hug. And tell her you love her, Seven. Use the words. I know that you do – I knew before, but I saw your love in the morgue. Tell her."

She looked up and nodded. The emotion that had bubbled to the surface earlier had submerged again, but he could see it lingering in her eyes. "I will, Doctor. I promise."

He sighed and looked down. "Seven… before all this happened, I said a lot of things that I never intended to say when I believed my program would be decompiled. There was no time afterwards for us to ever discuss it." The uncomfortable look which had plagued Seven the last few days returned to her face. The Doctor saw it and smiled. "I know it makes you uncomfortable, Seven. That's part of romance, especially when it's one sided." He sighed. "It was wrong of me to say all of those things when I thought I was going to die. They were things I should have said, to everyone, long before. Things my friends deserved to know. Before I got a chance to fix the mistakes I had made, _Voyager _was here and most of them were dead." He stopped and looked at her. "Seven, I don't know if I ever had a chance for a relationship with you. It was something I always believed beyond me, and I still think it was. But I should have _asked_. Suddenly you were dead and all the chances were gone and I wished for a chance to tell you." He laughed. "Well, I have it now, and to you, my confession of love is still a recent memory."

Seven sat up and looked at him. He continued, "Seven. I don't know if I loved you. I was infatuated with you, and I would have liked a chance to pursue our friendship as something more. I did not even try, and I forever looked back on what could have been. I may just be a hologram, but I'm a hologram who mourned your death for a very long time. I don't know if my counterpart will ever ask you this. But if he does… don't dismiss him out of hand. Please."

Seven was silent for a long second. Then she said, "Doctor, I never thought of you as a potential romantic partner. You were a hologram and I believed it was not a serious possibility. I always assumed that procreation was the intended result of romantic relationships; something I have since learned is… not always the case. It was never something I considered and perhaps I should have. After your… confession… I did not know how, or if, I should react." She touched his arm. "I will consider you in that light in the future, Doctor. And I will tell Naomi that I love her."

He smiled. "Thank you, Seven. That is all that I could ever ask."

* * *

When they beamed back to their _Voyager, _Commander Chakotay was waiting. He wore a look of concern. "Are you all right, Kathryn?" he asked. She nodded, but the transporter room doors slid open before she had a chance to speak. Naomi Wildman rocketed through the doors. 

"Captain! Seven!" Janeway looked down on the little girl, _Voyager's _prodigal daughter, and she smiled happily. She watched in astonishment as Seven knelt down and engulfed the little girl in a hug.

"I love you, Naomi Wildman," she said quietly. Janeway had never heard so much emotion in her voice before. She watched them silently, swearing once again that she would not let her _Voyager _meet the same end that the one she had just departed did. _I've got to get them home._

In front of her, Naomi grinned up at Seven."I know, Seven," Naomi said, reaching up to wrap her arms around Seven's neck. "I love you too. Now, you're late for our game of kadis-kot. Crewman Celes and Icheb are waiting in my quarters to play. We've been waiting for you, we knew you were coming back from the other _Voyager_ soon." Janeway could have sworn Seven was about to start to laugh, but the former drone just allowed herself to be dragged from the transporter room by the little half-Katarian bundle of energy. "Bye Captain!" Naomi said happily on the way out. From the transporter controls, Nicoletti did laugh, following behind.

Janeway watched and let herself be helped down off the transporter pad by her first officer. "What did you find over there?" he asked.

"A future that would have been. A future that will never be," she said firmly. "Come on. We're going to find a way to stop the Queen. She has a lot to answer for." She looked over at him, touching his arm lightly with her hand. "Chakotay, over on that ship I almost lost myself to my grief. I made a decision that you and Tuvok and the crew supported, and on that ship I faced the consequences of that decision. My ship was in ruins and my whole crew was dead, and it was because of a decision that I made."

Chakotay looked at her. "You're the captain, Kathryn. You took the Kobayashi Maru – The no-win scenario. On one side, it was the death of your crew. On the other, it was the death of the Federation." He gripped her arm. "The greatest test of an officer is the Kobayashi Maru. There's a reason it's the final test at the Academy. We're going to beat it, this time, because the Queen couldn't handle losing."

"There's something we have in common," muttered Janeway.


	7. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Leaving behind the nebula that had protected them in the past and gave them a shelter in this future, _Voyager _emerged and her warp nacelles rose to the upright position. The ship burst into warp, flinging itself forward towards the location of the second nebula, where the transwarp hub had been housed and defended. Several hours later, _Voyager _dropped out of warp and slowly, timidly, eased her way into the depths.

On the bridge, the crew was tense. This was where they had died; in this timeline and it was where each of them had been resolved to fight to the death in their own. They knew, each of them, that it might still be their fate, and that whatever they found here might not be enough to stop the Queen in their own time without making the same sacrifices. Resolved, however, to do what was necessary, the ship went forward.

Janeway glanced over at Harry. "Ensign Kim, can we get better sensor resolution?" she asked. He glanced over his console and looked up.

"No ma'am. I'm not sure what it is, but there are massive amounts of electromagnetic radiation emanating from the nebula. I'm having trouble seeing anything more than a thousand meters ahead of us." He glared at the panel. "What's the problem with you?" he grumbled.

_Voyager _moved through the gas, cutting through it as it swept over her aerodynamic hull. Paris skillfully swung the ship around larger pockets of gas, and then _Voyager _skated through a layer of the gas and entered a giant pocket where the gas concentration was lower. On the viewscreen, the image suddenly resolved. Below _Voyager _they could see the giant transwarp hub. It was inactive, they could tell immediately, but intact. Surrounding it were more than a dozen Borg vessels. All of them appeared to be dormant.

Suddenly Harry stopped. "Captain, I've figured out what the interference is. There are massive amounts of energy weapon signatures. There's been a battle here, and recently." He tapped the console and his eyes widened. "Captain, there are Borg signatures and… Federation weapons." His mouth gaped open. "It was Starfleet who was fighting the Borg here!"

Janeway turned back to the monitor. _Starfleet sent a fleet to the Delta Quadrant to attack the transwarp hub fifteen years after we attacked it the first time? They _must _have gotten the data the other _Voyager _sent back to the Alpha Quadrant. From the looks of it, they designed some pretty nasty weapons from it. _A sudden thought struck her. _Did they use it to design whatever weapon it was that was used to destroy the collective in this time? _"If Starfleet was responsible for the destruction of the collective," she mused aloud, "that would explain why the Queen was so insistent on coming back in time to stop _Voyager._" Harry nodded, but his focus was back on the console.

"Captain, I'm starting to get transponder signals from debris in the nebula," he said. On the viewscreen an image popped into existence. It was what was left of what once had been a Federation starship, Janeway recognized, Akira-class. "That one's transponder says it's the _USS Centaur._" The screen changed and on it appeared a warp nacelle. "This is from the _Al-Batani._ And this sensor pod belongs to a Nebula-class ship. The _Ulysses, _I think."

Janeway looked up at him. "How many ships were lost here, Ensign?" she asked.

Kim shook his head. "At least twenty, ma'am, but I can't resolve it any better than that," he said. Suddenly he gasped. "Captain! I'm getting an _active _Starfleet signature!" The viewscreen changed once more, but the image was too small to resolve. Then it magnified, and magnified again. It resolved into what was clearly a Federation starship, a variant of the Excelsior-class, Janeway recognized. Kim magnified the image once again, and Janeway read the name inscribed across the ship's saucer.

"The _Hood. _NCC-42296," Janeway said quietly. "Lifesigns, Mr. Kim?"

"I can't tell from this distance, Captain. She's covered in some kind of armor I don't recognize. It's disrupting our sensors," he said. "If we get closer, I might be able to get more accurate readings as to her status." Janeway nodded at Paris, and _Voyager _closed on the _Hood. _She had clear signs of battle damage, hull breaches over sections of her hull, but the ship itself was intact. Janeway heard a sharp intake of breath from Kim behind her, and she turned back to him questioningly. "Captain. We're being hailed by the _Hood._"

Janeway turned back to the viewer. _Someone is alive over there._ "Onscreen, Mr. Kim," she ordered.

The viewscreen resolved into an image of a man, one Janeway recognized. He looked considerably older than she remembered him being, but that was to be expected. He spoke. "Janeway?" he said, astonishment in his voice. It faded quickly. "Captain Janeway, I'm Admiral DeSoto of the _USS Hood_. Welcome to Galahad Point." He looked at her closely. "Don't get me wrong, Captain, I'm glad to see you, but you're dead. You have been for fifteen years." Suddenly he shook his head, waving away his uncertainties. "Nevermind, we'll discuss it in person. The _Hood _is in bad shape, but we're making progress. We'll host you over here. Commander Neeley will meet you in the transporter room. DeSoto out." The screen blinked out.

Janeway raised an eyebrow. "You're with me, Commander. You too, Mr. Paris. We'll bring Seven also. Tuvok, you have the bridge." She stood and strode to the turbolift, Tom and Chakotay following closely behind.

* * *

When they materialized aboard the _Hood, _a slim woman with red-blond hair was there to greet them. She wore the grey-on-black uniform Starfleet had adopted after _Voyager _was lost in the Delta Quadrant, with a gold shirt underneath her uniform jacket. On her collar she wore commander's pips. "Captain Janeway. Welcome aboard the_ Hood._ I'm Commander Lisa Neeley, ship's tactical and acting-first officer." She held out her hand. "We owe you a lot, Captain, although we're a bit confused as to how you came to be here," she said. 

"I think I'll explain everything to you and Admiral DeSoto at the same time, Commander, so I don't have to do it twice," Janeway released Neeley's hand. "I will say, however, it's incredibly good to see another Starfleet officer out here in the Delta Quadrant."

"Starfleet has made some advances in engine technology, thanks in large part to the data _Voyager _sent us on the transwarp coils you recovered from the Borg. The _Hood _is equipped with a transwarp drive. She's not quite as fast as Borg ships, but she also won't burn out her engine after ten-thousand lightyears." Neeley led them out into the corridor towards the turbolift. The ship had clearly suffered major damage in a recent engagement, but the _Hood _was in decent shape. _Certainly better than _Voyager _was after attacking this hub fifteen years ago, _Janeway thought. _Then again, there are more than twenty other Federation ships out in this nebula and they're nothing but wreckage._

"How many ships did Starfleet send to attack the hub, Commander?" she asked.

"We started with thirty-one ships, Captain. The _Hood _was the flagship under Admiral DeSoto. We're also the only ship in one piece, although we've recovered some survivors from other vessels." At Janeway's blanched look, a ghost of a smile passed across Neeley's face. "Believe me, Captain, the Borg got it a whole lot worse." She looked up at Janeway. "You made the same decision, once, when you attacked the hub with _Voyager_," she said. Janeway grimaced.

The turbolift stopped and the doors slid open. The _Hood_'s bridge was in worse shape than the transporter room had been. One of the science stations was a smoking hole in the back of the bridge and there was a large piece of the ceiling plating sticking out of what had once been the first officer's chair. There were three officers working on clearing away the damage and fixing the stations. The _Hood _was crippled, but Janeway suspected that the ship would be operational before too much longer. Neeley led Janeway, Paris, Chakotay and Seven down and walked into the conference lounge. At the end of the table, DeSoto sat looking over damage reports. He stood up as she entered and walked over to shake her hand. "Captain Janeway, welcome aboard the _Hood, _what's left of her."

"Admiral. I'm sure you're wondering what my crew and I are doing here when we were reported killed fifteen years ago," Janeway said. "I'll explain in a second, but first," she gestured at her officers. "This is Commander Chakotay, my first officer, Lieutenant Paris, my helmsman, and Seven of Nine."

DeSoto glanced over them each with a scrutinizing look. He spent a good extra two seconds on Paris, before turning back to Janeway. "Now I know you're not from around here," he said. Janeway started to ask what he meant, but DeSoto cut her off. "I was at the initial briefing with Captains Picard, Riker, and Reynolds fifteen years ago, with Admiral Paris. In your message from the Delta Quadrant, you said it was probable that you and your entire crew were dead. You specifically mentioned the death of Mr. Paris here for the sake of his father." He looked at her as Paris winced in the background. "So what happened, Captain, and why are you here?" he asked.

Suddenly, before Janeway could answer, another man burst in through the conference doorway. Janeway turned to look and the man stopped short in front of her and her officers. His right hand went to cover his mouth, and Janeway's own mouth dropped open as she recognized him. "Oh Captain! You're alive! You said you were dead! Oh, thank goodness!" On Janeway's left, DeSoto was starting to crack a smile. He remembered his first impression of Reginald Barclay, fifteen years ago at Project Pathfinder, and remembered how terribly upset the then-lieutenant had looked when he heard Janeway's message. In the years since, he'd gotten used to Mr. Barclay's eccentric mannerisms. He'd had no choice after Admiral Paris assigned Barclay to the _Hood_.

"Lieutenant Barclay?" Paris asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Paris, but I'm a Commander now, but it's so good to see you! All of you! Commander Chakotay, and Seven of Nine, and… is everyone else alive aboard _Voyager _as well, Captain?"

Janeway smiled. "Sit down, Reg, I was just about to brief the Admiral on what has happened here," she said. All of them sat down around the conference table. "Admiral, as you've already deduced, I'm not your Captain Janeway. When _Voyager _was on her way to attack the transwarp hub just days ago, we were attacked and our engines disabled by a Borg sphere which our sensors hadn't detected. The sphere was heavily damaged even before it engaged us and we disabled it easily, but the attack prevented us from going on our mission to eliminate the Borg transwarp hub." Janeway looked over at DeSoto. "In our timeline, we haven't stopped the invasion yet," she said.

DeSoto looked at her. "But in our timeline, _Voyager _successfully attacked and destroyed the hub and bought the Federation about eight years before the Borg finally invaded. When they did, Starfleet wasn't quite ready, and we took heavy losses in the first few months. Eventually, though, with the assistance of several allies and the development of some new technology based on _Voyager's _logs, we pushed the Borg back," he said.

"That's good to hear. When we arrived here we found that _Voyager _and recovered her logs. Her crew is dead and she is crippled in a nebula a few lightyears from here," Janeway said quietly. "After the sphere was disabled, Commander Chakotay boarded it. We quickly determined that the sphere had come back in time to prevent _Voyager _from attacking the transwarp hub. All the drones on board had been severed from the collective, but…" Janeway made sure DeSoto met her eyes. "The Borg Queen was aboard and had led the expedition to the past herself."

DeSoto's hand slammed down on the desk. "Damn it, I thought we'd killed her. I guess we should have known that not even severing the collective mind wouldn't be enough to stop her. Hell," he spat out violently.

Janeway nodded. "We had no alternatives left. By the time our engines were back online, we couldn't get to the hub, infect it with the pathogen, and destroy it before the Borg left for the Alpha Quadrant. I was out of options, so…" Janeway shrugged.

"So you took your ship forward in time. How'd you do it, a slingshot?" Neeley asked. Barclay looked up.

"So you're… you're from a past where _Voyager's _crew _didn't_ die attacking the transwarp hub? So you came to the future after the Queen went back to the past to… to what?" Barclay asked.

"To answer your question, Commander Neeley, yes, we used a slingshot maneuver to come to this future. As for you, Mr. Barclay… yes, since we haven't attacked the hub, _Voyager's _crew was never killed in the attempt."

"And, you're here… you're here to find something you can use to stop the Queen? Since she went to the past, you... you came to the future to… cancel that out." Barclay commented. Janeway nodded. Across the table, DeSoto was deep in thought. Finally, he shrugged.

"I probably would have done the same thing, Captain. The Queen violated the timeline first, so you had a choice between breaking the temporal prime directive or letting her assimilate Earth. If you hadn't come to the future, in all likelihood, none of us," he gestured to his staff, "would exist. Although, I can't say with any certainty that we'll exist regardless, since you'll certainly change the timeline anyway." DeSoto looked up. "We can help you, Captain, and we will. We have the technology you need to beat the Borg in your past, and frankly, if they haven't ever even seen any of it before, you'll tear hell through any Borg drones or ships you come across, for a while anyway." He looked over at Neeley. "Tell them what we've got to help them out, Lisa," he said.

Neeley stood. She tapped the monitor behind her and it came to life, and then she tapped a few more buttons. A schematic of the _Hood _popped up. "Shortly before the Borg invasion in 2386, the Starfleet Corps of Engineers started working on making our weapons more effective. During the eight years you gave us, and the head start with all your data on the Borg, we developed several new methods of battling the Borg and getting our weapons through their shields. The engineers at the Corps were determined to show the Borg that resistance was _not _futile." She tapped on the screen. "This was their first development – a new generation of ablative armor. Unlike most of our new technologies, this one has universal applications. It'll protect a ship from the Borg, the Romulans, or a supernova, whatever you need it to. I expect Commander Barclay," she gestured at Reg, "can help you install the armor generators on board _Voyager _without too much difficulty. As long as you have replicators and extra power to spare, you can make the new armor work."

She tapped the screen again. "After that, about two years into the conflict, the Romulans and several other Alpha Quadrant races joined in the war against the Borg. The Queen was relentless and enemy reinforcements kept arriving, but without the transwarp hub they took a while to get here, and that gave us an early edge. Eventually we developed new weapons to help counter the Borg. The simplest one is a new type of phaser modulation that cuts through Borg shields. They've managed to adapt their shields to absorb some of the damage over the years, but they've never quite managed to neutralize it. More importantly…" she tapped the screen once more. "This, Captain, is the bread-and-butter in our war against the Borg, the transphasic torpedo. Before they adapted to it one or two of them were enough to turn a Borg cube into nothing more than oh-so-much debris. Here at Galahad it took eight to ten."

"Galahad?" Janeway asked.

"Galahad Point. It's what Starfleet Intelligence named this nebula and the hub inside shortly after we got your message," Neely shrugged. "Don't look at me, I'm just a goldshirt. Nobody seemed to want my opinion." Neely hit the monitor once more. "But this, Captain, is what you're going to need to beat the Borg, especially if you've only got one ship. The engineers who came up with it dubbed it the "information cascade." She glanced at Barclay. "Reg here was on the team that developed it, with Commander La Forge and Commander Data from the _Enterprise_, Professor O'Brien from the _Defiant, _and Commander Eruzione from the _Endeavour._"

Barclay looked up. "Oh, the cascade, right. Yes. Well, Captain, it's like this. Every Borg cube is equipped with a _central plexus, _you know that, yes? Well, in the collective, there are several very large more capable variants of it that are responsible for keeping all of the plexi in synch with one another. There are actually seven of them… one in each Borg transwarp hub, and, well, we don't know where the last one is, only that it exists somewhere. We think. It probably is related to the Borg Queen, although I have no idea how…" Barclay's voice trailed off, distracted, and Neeley pinched him. "Ow! Oh, right, right. Well, Captain, when I was on the _Enterprise, _Commander Data and Commander La Forge designed a virus that they called an 'invasive program.' I know, I know, it doesn't sound too dangerous, but just wait… The purpose behind it was it would download a _virus_ into the collective that would pose an _unsolvable_ problem to the Borg collective mind! Eventually, the collective would spend _so _much time trying to answer it, that it would eventually take over their primary functions and distract them from doing their jobs. The hope was it would eventually kill… _all_ of the drones," said Barclay.

"But… it didn't work. We… ah… we tried it. The Queen apparently is able to _solve_ the invasive program, or at least convince the _rest_ of the drones to _ignore_ it, so the collective went, you know, merrily onwards despite our attempts. After _that_, we got together all the engineers who had _faced_ the Borg before and started working on _new_ viruses to attack the Borg collective _directly_." Barclay sounded excessively excited. "And we came up with… the _information cascade._ This virus wasn't slow working. In fact, it wasn't really a virus. Not really. We would access a Borg central plexus – it wouldn't work on a regular Borg subspace transceiver, they would short it out before relaying it to the rest of the collective – and use the plexus to transmit an extremely compressed data file which would _expand_ upon retrieval to every drone in contact! All the drones in the collective would overload their subspace transceivers at once when they retrieved the file and be disconnected from the collective!"

Barclay shook his head. "But… that didn't work _either_. See, we _tried_ it on a regular cube's plexus, but it just… shorted out the plexus and all the Borg on the cube. Oh sure, it was relayed to another _couple_ cubes, close by, but the signal couldn't be transmitted to the whole collective. The central plexus of a normal cube just didn't have enough_…_ transmission capacity," said Barclay. He shrugged. "So, then, I thought about trying it on a transwarp hub plexus. They are far larger and more capable than a normal central plexus. So when Admiral DeSoto left on the mission to destroy the hub at Galahad Point… I went along and brought the cascade along too. Luckily, it worked… if it hadn't, well, the Borg would have gotten the hub _working_, and sent all those cubes through to the Alpha Quadrant, and…" Barclay's stopped speaking. His head shook rapidly back and forth. "Well, I suppose the _Hood _would have been destroyed too. Oh, Thank God it worked," he said. "But! Captain, I can give you a _copy_ of the information cascade program! If _you _can find a way to get it to the central plexus of the transwarp hub in _your _time, then… you can stop the collective! Shut them down in their tracks! Just know… it's not _completely_ thorough either. Mostly. If any cubes _aren't_ in contact with the collective when the cascade goes _off_, well, they'll avoid being shorted out. As long as you get the _Queen_, though…"

Seven of Nine looked perplexed. "Commander Barclay, how would you propose _Voyager _access the central plexus of the hub in order to download the cascade program and infect the collective? We have only one ship and despite whatever upgrades the Federation has developed, I do not believe one ship could hold off the collective for the amount of time it would take for a security team to access the plexus and trigger the cascade," Seven said.

Neeley looked up. "We might be able to help you there, too," she said. "Starfleet developed anti-Borg cloaking technology shortly before we left on this mission. The Borg have gotten pretty adept at seeing through it if they know to look, but in your time they'll have never seen it before. And, hopefully, they won't know to look."

Barclay's foot hit the ground. "The bio-dampeners! The Borg fifteen years ago haven't adapted to the bio-dampeners yet!" Barclay said excitedly. "Seven, your parents invented multi-adaptive shielding and bio-dampeners to hide from the Borg. We used the multi-adaptive shielding to help us design the new cloaking device, of course, but the Borg eventually figured out how to see through our enhanced bio-dampening technology. They're no good to us, well… well, I suppose none of it is any good to us, now that the collective is gone, except for the armor of course… but! They'll be _perfect_ for an infiltration mission to the central plexus of the hub! Combing them with our cloaking technology, the new ablative armor generators, the phaser modulations, and the transphasic torpedoes, and _Voyager _will be a one-ship anti-Borg armada!"

Janeway glanced at Chakotay. "Admiral, we don't want to remain here in this time for any longer than possible, lest we risk doing further damage to the timeline. How long would it take to make these modifications to _Voyager?_"

Barclay cut in. "Is B'Elanna still your chief engineer?" he asked. Janeway nodded. "Then… wait, she's pregnant isn't she. That will add at least a couple days to the modifications time… although, once the _Hood's _transwarp drive is back up and running, all we'll have to do is move one of _our_ enhanced transwarp coils over to _Voyager._" He glanced at the Admiral. "And… there is plenty of material left over from the battle to salvage, Captain. I'd say four days. _Most_ of the technology is compatible with _Voyager _anyway. The _hard_ part will be installing the ablative armor generators." He looked up. "And, Geordi told me to multiply all repair estimates by a factor of four, that way when you finish quicker you look like a miracle worker. So… two weeks! Well, a little more than two weeks."

Janeway glanced at DeSoto, who was trying hard to smother a grin. "Two weeks it is, Mr. Barclay," she said.

* * *

After their crewmen had departed to get to work on repairs to the _Hood _and the modifications to _Voyager, _Janeway and DeSoto were left alone in the conference lounge. She looked at him from across the table. 

"How bad was it, Sir?" she asked quietly.

"It would have been a lot worse, Captain. And don't call me sir, I hate being reminded that I took this blasted promotion." DeSoto scratched his head and sighed. "It was pretty bad at first. Even with your warning and the time you bought us, we weren't ready. We did what we could to keep the Borg away from core systems, but those months before the transphasic torpedo breakthrough were really bad. We lost several dozen ships and did little to halt the Borg incursions. Several people designed viruses based off the one your Icheb used to infect the hub, but after that incident the Borg were more cautious about who they assimilated." He shrugged. "They made it as far as Alpha Centauri before we really stopped the bleeding." At her fearful look, he shrugged. "It's not as bad as it sounds. They were on a straight-line course for Earth and didn't do a whole lot of assimilating outside of it. Once we developed the torpedoes we drove them back pretty fast. The Klingons and the Romulans joined the fighting early on, and…" he glanced at her. "After they realized just how serious this was, the Dominion joined us too. It shocked a whole lot of people, and made a whole lot of good Federation citizens uncomfortable, but it made a big difference in the long run," he said. "We owe that to Captain Kira and Odo, really."

"You know, Admiral, that everything may well be different once _Voyager _returns to our own time," Janeway said.

"Yes, I know. I'm not really sure how this will all play out – I hate temporal mechanics – but I can't imagine how you attacking the hub fifteen years ago with the weapons we developed during seven years of fighting the Borg _before _they've even had a chance to _start_ to adapt to them can possibly make it any worse." He shrugged. "She started this, not us."

Janeway nodded. She stood. "I'd better be getting back to my ship, Admiral. There's a lot of work to be done and…" Janeway shrugged. "I'm a fully qualified engineer, and with Torres pregnant, they might need an extra pair of hands on deck," she said.

"Captain Janeway," he said, as she was about to leave. "I was one of the first people to see the message you sent after attacking the hub. You gave all of us a fighting chance that we wouldn't have had without you, and you did it at the highest price. I wanted to thank you."

Janeway paused, wondering if she should deflect the praise since she hadn't had the chance to attack the hub yet. Finally, she said, "Thank you, Sir. But you would have done the same."

DeSoto looked at her. "It's wartime. I go where I'm sent. I never had to make that choice." He stood. "And Captain, I'm glad I didn't."

* * *

Three days later the modifications to _Voyager _were almost complete. Reg's estimates had been excessive, even before he'd multiplied them by four, and B'Elanna had done an admirable job directing her staff around engineering, heavily pregnant. The crew had gotten a chance to know the real Reg for the first time, and Janeway thought that they were almost as happy about it as he was. Despite his and B'Elanna's wildly varying personalities, they both had engineering in common and Janeway thought that B'Elanna was probably one of the only people Reg had ever known who could speak to him on his level. The man was a genius; there was no doubt of that. 

They'd run into a few problems. The armor and phaser modifications were operating just fine. Soon B'Elanna insisted that the transwarp drive would be working as well – she said with Nozawa, Vorik, Jor, and Nicoletti _all _working on it that if it wasn't finished in the next two days she was going to send half of them to _Sto-vo-kor_ and that it was most emphatically _not _a good day to die. When Jor looked at her frightened, B'Elanna had just growled, "Crewman, if you don't want to meet the _kos'kari _far before your time, you'll go get back to work on the engines." B'Elanna was right… she was even more intimidating pregnant.

Tuvok and Neeley formed a mission plan to infiltrate the hub, also. Tuvok knew that when they returned to the present they would be working on a very tight schedule – with only a few hours before Seven estimated the Borg would begin their invasions of the Alpha Quadrant, they would have to hurry. Even a single cube in the transwarp conduit would be a major problem, since, according to Seven, drones lost contact with the hive mind while in a hub conduit. If they were in a transwarp hub conduit when the cascade went off it was likely they wouldn't be affected by it, and while Starfleet could probably handle _one _Borg cube, Janeway wasn't going to hedge her bets.

The biggest problem was that they didn't have very many transphasic torpedoes. The _Hood_ had used almost all of hers during the last battle and they'd so far been unable to recover any from the wreckage of the _Challenger _or _Budapest, _the only two ships which were marginally intact. DeSoto had given her all the ones he had left – six – and Janeway was grateful for it. He'd also given her the _Hood's _cloaking device, saying that she would need it more than he did. Installing it had been easy – Barclay and Seven had the procedure finished inside of fifteen minutes.

But with the new transwarp drive coil that Barclay had scrounged from the wreckage of the _Budapest, Voyager _didn't even have to go through the transwarp hub to get home. Once Torres finally got it running they would be able to get home under their own power, without using the transwarp hub. Thus, all they had to worry about was keeping the Borg from getting through. Everything else would come later.

* * *

Aboard _Voyager_, the modifications were almost complete. The ship would be leaving in the morning – but tonight they celebrated. _Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die, _thought Janeway dryly. The phrase didn't often feel so appropriate, although she had no intention of dying. The holodeck was running Sandrine's for the first time in several years at the behest of Reg Barclay, who had "always wanted to try the program." DeSoto, Neeley, Barclay, and _Voyager's _entire senior staff, except Tuvok, occupied the room, along with several other survivors from the Federation fleet and just about every off-duty crewman from _Voyager. _

Janeway watched as Chakotay and DeSoto played a game of pool. DeSoto was acquitting himself rather well, although it was clear he was outclassed. Mike Ayala and Lisa Neeley were discussing some of their experiences with Tom Paris and his wife, and Janeway could hear Neeley talking about what she called, "the most harrowing week of her life," when she had been on an undercover operation in Cardassian territory aboard a captured Jem'Hadar fighter with Ben Sisko. Neeley had laughed sadly, recalling that Charlie Reynolds' _Centaur _had almost shot them down, thinking they were the enemy, and that she had teased Reynolds mercilessly about "liking to swing for the fences" ever since. Neeley had gone silent for several minutes after that, and Janeway recalled the wreckage of the _Centaur_ that _Voyager_ had passed on the way to the hub.

Mortimer Harren and Reg Barclay seemed to be bonding over something that Janeway decided not to try to contemplate – she was good at mathematics, but she knew better than to try to keep up with Reg. Behind them sat the two Delaney sisters with a few crewmen from the _Hood _and survivors from the _Challenger _and the _Al-Batani. _Janeway watched them for a few minutes, and had to laugh quietly. _Such flirts._

She turned her attention back to the pool table. As she glanced over, Chakotay finished DeSoto off and the two of them shook hands, then DeSoto wandered over towards her. "Enjoying yourself, Admiral?" she asked. He grinned at her.

"It's been a while since I've played pool, Captain. Your first officer is quite good, although I hear you're the shark on board." DeSoto rested his back against the bar and gratefully accepted a drink from Sandrine.

Janeway smiled. "That's right, although Mr. Paris over there fancies himself the 'shark.'" She looked over, where Tom and B'Elanna were still conversing with Ayala and Neeley. "You saw a lot of combat in the Alpha Quadrant, even before the Borg invaded," she said. "I wonder if I should be grateful we missed out on the Dominion War."

"It wasn't fun," DeSoto agreed. "There were many times I thought my ship and I weren't going to make it. And if it hadn't been for Admiral Ross, the Breen would have destroyed the _Hood_ at Second Chin'toka. But you've been through your own share of combat, Captain. I've seen the scars on your hull. And in the end, we always had a home that we could go back to."

"So do we, Admiral. So do we."

DeSoto turned and reached out his hand. Janeway took it and shook it firmly. "Good hunting, Captain Janeway. And Godspeed."


	8. Second Interlude

**Interlude**

Through the windows in what had once been Neelix's galley, he watched. Far into the distance of the depths of the gas and dust he saw the glowing star, a blinding light through which the past and future had met. Her nose towards the star, he saw the ship that he would have recognized anywhere. He gazed upon her, and the men and women who crewed her today, yesterday, and if fate were kind, would crew her tomorrow. Then, the nacelles rose up and the ship leapt forward, blazing towards the star so that the warp flash in the distance and the star were irreconcilable.

"Goodbye, _Voyager_," he said quietly.


	9. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

_Voyager _swung around the star at high warp, racing through time as well as space, going back to the time they had left behind. The ship shuddered under the strain, but she held together.

Arriving back at the instant they had left, _Voyager _raced out of the nebula. Here, time was something they had little of. For the second time, Paris set a course for the transwarp hub, Galahad Point. Flashing into transwarp, for a few instants the ship was visible. Then the cloaking device Reg Barclay had helped install activated and _Voyager _vanished.

"How long until we're within transporter range of the hub?" asked Janeway. She paced across the bridge as her ship ripped through space, racing towards a confrontation with the Queen.

"Five minutes, Captain. We'll drop out of transwarp when we're ready to enter the nebula," responded Lieutenant Rollins. He was at tactical because Tuvok was in the transporter room, getting his team ready to infiltrate the hub. Janeway nodded at him, then went and stood behind Paris at helm. She watched his skillful hands fly over the controls, _Voyager _responding to his touch, and on the viewscreen _Voyager _dropped out of transwarp. Still running engines hot, Paris drove _Voyager _full throttle through the outer layers of the nebula.

On the viewscreen, they again saw the transwarp hub. It glowed with activity, drones occupying every level, every station. Surrounding it, there were not the dozens of inactive Borg vessels and plethora of battle damage, but instead more than fifty Borg vessels floated menacingly in the void. Still cloaked, _Voyager _skidded to halt just meters over the hub. Beneath _Voyager, _thousands of Borg drones worked to keep the transwarp hub running in preparation for their invasion of the Federation. Above _Voyager,_ dozens of Borg cubes prepared to mount that invasion. Janeway glanced grimly at Chakotay and nodded firmly. "Do it."

* * *

On one of those cubes, the Borg Queen waited and wondered what had become of Janeway. After discovering Janeway's spy in the collective, she had anticipated an attack on the hub, but it had never come. Janeway was quickly running out of time, and she felt an irrational disappointment. She had been looking forward to Janeway's inevitable futile attempt to stop her. 

A sudden mental impulse triggered part of her brain, and her head turned quickly to respond. _Finally. I've been waiting for you, Captain Janeway. _On the viewer, she watched as _Voyager _shimmered into existence in the midst of her forces. The sleek ship skimmed over the transwarp hub and blasted anything in range with phaser fire. The Queen noted, with some astonishment, that _Voyager's_ weapons penetrated all her defenses. "Begin adaptation sequence," she commanded to the drones in the command center. In her mind, she felt their acknowledgement as they went about finding a counter to _Voyager's _weapons.

_Voyager _leapt forward, hurling towards the Borg cube closest to the transwarp hub. From her, a single torpedo launched, and then the Queen observed _Voyager _shimmer back under cloak. "Find Janeway. Begin random fire sequence," she ordered. Then the torpedo struck the cube. And suddenly, impossibly, her invasion fleet had one less ship.

* * *

On the transwarp hub, Tuvok glanced at his team. Each of them wore the neural dampeners that hid their presence from the collective. On point, Lieutenant Ayala swung his compression rifle to cover the drones that ambled around them. Behind him, Ensign Mulcahey held a phaser in his right hand, but in his left he held a tricorder that contained a copy of the information cascade program. Covering their flank, Crewman Dalby held a rifle lightly in his right hand. "Clear," Dalby reported. 

"Very well. We must make haste to reach the central plexus," said Tuvok. Ayala nodded, and the team moved purposely forward. Around them, the drones did not acknowledge or recognize their presence as they hurried towards the central sections of the transwarp hub's command center. With his tricorder, Mulcahey disabled one force field, then another, moving the team closer to their target.

* * *

In the space around the hub, _Voyager _had managed to avoid being struck by the Borg vessels, which were firing blind trying to find their position, but Janeway suspected that would not remain true indefinitely. Down to just five transphasic torpedoes, Janeway couldn't afford to engage in an all out conflict with the Borg, not now. Suddenly, the ship shook as a blast from one of the cubes struck _Voyager _squarely. Paris threw _Voyager_ into a series of evasive maneuvers and the ship managed to find a new hiding spot. 

On one of the cubes preparing to go through the hub to the Alpha Quadrant, the Borg Queen attempted to ascertain Janeway's plan. She had obviously found new technology to assist her in a conflict against the Borg, and was just as obviously trying to avoid using it unnecessarily. "What good does it do Janeway to have one ship hiding amongst fifty, when those fifty are about to assimilate the Alpha Quadrant?" she asked the silent drones in the room. They had no answer for her. Finally, the Queen decided that Janeway's presence was a nuisance, at worst. "Begin the transit to the Alpha Quadrant," she ordered.

* * *

"Captain!" gasped out Harry. "The cubes at the entrance to the transwarp hub are beginning to make the transit! If Tuvok's team doesn't initiate the cascade _now _those cubes won't be knocked out by it!" Janeway looked up at the viewer. _And if the Queen is on one of those ships, she'll avoid it too. There won't be a collective to come home to, but she'll do a hell of a lot of damage to the Federation._

"Lieutenant Rollins, prepare a pair of tricobalt devices, maximum yield," she ordered. Then she nodded at Tom. "We're going to try to buy Tuvok just a little bit more time," she said. "Bring us around and prepare to drop the cloak. Arm one more of the transphasic torpedoes."

At the entrance to the transwarp conduit, one cube passed into it. And a second. When another came to the entrance, _Voyager _decloaked and strafed the hull with her upgraded phasers. Damaged, the cube fired back, and fell out of formation. As _Voyager _sliced apart her outer hull, a third cube entered into the conduit. _Voyager _planted herself right in the path of one of the other cubes, and launched another torpedo. It punched through the cube's side, and the cube disintegrated as secondary explosions rippled through its innards. As _Voyager _spun to combat the remaining cubes, a fourth cube managed to slip into the conduit.

* * *

In the hub, Mulcahey worked to disable the last forcefield separating the team from the central plexus of the transwarp hub. Tuvok worked with him and together they struggled to gain access. Dalby watched the inactive drones grimly. So far, they had still remained unaware of _Voyager's _away team, but he suspected that was about to end. Next to him, Ayala's finger curled around the trigger of his phaser rifle, watching the inactive drones that seemed to be present in every direction. 

Finally, Mulcahey and Tuvok found a way to circumvent the barrier and the forcefield fell, sputtering out of existence. Slowly, the team crept forward into the large chamber that housed the transwarp plexus. Dalby's eyes narrowed as a drone activated to their left. He watched as it turned and looked straight at Mulcahey, and then ambled forward. When it was within four paces and still staring at Mulcahey, Dalby let his old Maquis instincts take over and pulled the trigger. The drone crumpled to the floor and for a second all was silent.

Then, unsurprisingly, an alarm began to blare. Tuvok turned and looked straight at Dalby, who met his eyes levelly before turning away and shooting another drone that appeared threatening. Then Tuvok raised his rifle and found a target of his own. "It appears that we have been detected. Hurry," he commanded. The team fell into a triangle around Mulcahey.

Dalby, Ayala, and Tuvok manned their weapons, blasting drones as they marched slowly forward. Racing to the plexus, Mulcahey snapped open his tricorder and downloaded the program into the plexus. Down on one knee, Dalby snapped off phaser blasts, catching multiple drones in the chest as Ayala phasered one that was just a few feet from Mulcahey. Then, suddenly, Mulcahey yelled in triumph as he activated the information cascade. The drones around them paused. Their implants lit up then gave out. All around them, the drones stopped dead, looking confused, and then Tuvok and his team dematerialized as Nicoletti grabbed them with _Voyager's _transporters.

* * *

Back on _Voyager's _bridge, Janeway was barking orders. "We've got to stop the four cubes that got through, and I'm not going to leave the transwarp hub here to be a menace in the future. Mr. Rollins, target the hub with the tricobalt devices. Tom, we're going to have to ride the explosion to get into the conduit before the entrance is collapsed," she said. 

"I hear you, Captain. We'll punch our way through," Tom said, not taking his eyes off the viewscreen as _Voyager _went into a roll, leveling out as it again faced the hub.

Janeway looked up at the screen at the transwarp hub yawing before _Voyager's _bow, and she snapped the order. "Fire."

The Borg ships floating around the hub did nothing to stop _Voyager _as the ship leveled the transwarp hub with a pair of bright-blue tricobalt charges. The hub's protective shielding had been lost when the drones inside had been severed from the collective by the cascade. The detonation ricocheted through the entire facility, beginning to tear it apart as destruction rippled throughout the massive structure. Ahead of _Voyager, _the conduit entrance destabilized without the support from the hub, and it started to collapse. _Voyager _raced down towards the conduit and charged into it with reckless abandon.

Behind them, the entrance collapsed as _Voyager _raced forward. Ahead of them, they could see the fourth cube as it moved steadily towards the Alpha Quadrant. Ahead of it, Janeway knew, were three more cubes, and any one of them could do incredible damage before it was stopped.

"Tom, get us in close to that last cube," Janeway said. He nodded silently, still intently focused on his controls. In the back of the bridge, Tuvok entered and relieved Rollins. Janeway looked up at him. "Good job, Mr. Tuvok, but it's not over yet. Prepare one of the torpedoes, we're going to take out the cube in front of us before we get to the end of this conduit," she said.

Paris artfully piloted _Voyager _into point blank range with the cube, which threw some ineffectual energy blasts at her. _Voyager _went by the cube on the side, absorbing the damage with her new ablative armor, and then pulled in front. From her aft launcher launched one of the new torpedoes and the cube behind caught it head-on. _Voyager _raced forward, leaving behind a trail of debris as what was left of the cube vaporized along the conduit. Ahead of the ship Janeway watched as the cubes ahead exited the conduit. They quickly bore down on the exit themselves, watching a tiny pinprick of space grow on the viewer.

_Voyager _exited the conduit, emerging into open space. Ahead of her sat three cubes. Janeway turned to Kim. "Location, Ensign?"

Kim looked up. He grimaced slightly. "We're in the Alpha Quadrant, ma'am. The Wolf 359 system." Janeway turned back to the monitor. For an instant, a sudden and intense joy filled her. _Wolf 359. Welcome to the Alpha Quadrant, just a few scanty lightyears between us and Earth. _Then she suppressed it. _Wolf 359, the system where the Borg killed thousands of Starfleet crewmen. _

"Somehow fitting," she said. Ahead of _Voyager _sat the three cubes, waiting for _Voyager's _arrival. The distance between _Voyager _and the cubes decreased rapidly. "Bring us into weapons range, Mr. Paris," she growled.

On the viewer appeared the Queen. "Why hello, Captain Janeway. I was wondering when you would arrive. I see you have found yourself some new toys to play with, and I'm rather curious as to where you came up with all these new… innovations… so quickly?" Her voice was cloying, a sickly saccharine.

Janeway stared the Queen in the eye. "They were a gift, your highness. From a friend." Janeway stood up and planted her hands on her hips. " We're going to finish this right now, right here." Janeway glowered at the Queen.

The Queen looked back. "Yes. We are." She tilted her head and two of the cubes closed on _Voyager._ "You have fun dealing with those, Captain. I'm going to head over to Earth and destroy humanity once and for all." The screen shut down and the Queen's cube raced forward. "Tuvok, fire!" Janeway spat.

Paris tried to get _Voyager _a good firing angle on the lead cube, but it was decently covered by the other two. The torpedo caught the Borg cube off-center, detonating along the side. The cube took heavy damage as _Voyager_ swung around and launched the last two torpedoes at the other two cubes. The cube the Queen was on hung in space momentarily, trying to recover – its transwarp drive was heavily damaged. The other two cubes staggered under the detonations from _Voyager's _last torpedoes. One fell away from _Voyager, _burning, but intact for the moment. The last one tore itself apart in a fury.

On _Voyager's _bridge a feeling of renewed jubilation settled through the crew. Harry started to smile and was about to say something, but the viewscreen came to life. "Not good enough, Janeway. If you could destroy me, you would have done it already," the Queen said. "Now, I'm going to ensure that you _never _have a home to return to." She glared viciously at Janeway. "I wonder what will happen to Earth when this cube slams into it at transwarp velocity?" she asked. Then her image blinked out. On the viewer, the crippled cube jumped uncertainly into transwarp. Janeway's eyes widened. Phasers weren't going to be enough to stop that cube from reaching Earth and certainly nothing Starfleet had could stop it. She had no torpedoes left to throw. Only one answer came to mind. _Here we are again, having to sacrifice the ship to save Earth. _She thought of the dead on that other _Voyager. This time, _she thought, _at least I can save my crew. _

She looked at Chakotay, and knew he knew what she was about to do. "Abandon ship." She said. No one responded and a deathly silence filled the bridge. "Abandon ship. Repeat, all hands this is the Captain. Abandon ship," she repeated. Tom looked up at her with wide eyes. She patted his shoulder. "It's all right, Tom. Go get B'Elanna and get out of here." She looked up at the crew. "That goes for all of you. Go!"

* * *

In astrometrics, Icheb and Seven looked up as the order was given. Seven turned to him. "Go, Icheb. Get to a shuttlecraft and get off the ship. Captain Janeway intends to sacrifice _Voyager _to stop the cube." Icheb looked up, and he nodded. Rushing from the lab, he stopped suddenly as a thought occurred to him. 

He raced to sickbay instead, and nearly ran over the Doctor. "Where's the dead Queen, Doctor?" he asked hurriedly, glancing quickly at each of the biobeds.

"What? Why?" The Doctor asked. Before Icheb could respond, the Doctor's combadge beeped. On the other end, Tom Paris was speaking frantically.

_"Doctor! Doc we need you aboard the Delta Flyer right away! B'Elanna's gone into labor. Doc, get down here!"_ The Doctor glanced at Icheb, both of them wide-eyed. Then the Doctor grabbed Icheb and raced to one of the back biobeds, where the Queen's corpse was lying. He watched, curious, as Icheb looked frantically through the implants the Doctor had retrieved during his autopsy. Finally, Icheb found the one he was looking for, and both raced out of Sickbay towards the shuttlebay.

Once there, they met Seven of Nine at the entrance. She was standing uncertainly, looking at the _Flyer_. "Come on, Seven," said the Doctor. Seven turned to him.

"I am going to stay and assist the Captain," she said.

"Seven, but she's going to kamikaze _Voyager _into the Borg cube! You'll be killed!" He reached for her to pull her to the _Flyer. _She shook her head.

"Doctor, I want you to know… you are the best friend I have ever had." She looked at him. "I am grateful that you care for me." Seven leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I will not leave Captain Janeway behind," she said.

She turned and marched back into the turbolift. Behind her, the Doctor turned away as Tom called, begging for his help with B'Elanna.

* * *

On the bridge, Janeway watched as the _Flyer _departed, joining a plethora of shuttlecraft and escape pods. The Queen was getting ahead, but they could still catch her before she got to Earth. She turned to Tuvok and Chakotay, the only ones left on the bridge. "Go," she said. They both started to respond, but were interrupted as the turbolift door slid open and Seven walked out. Janeway looked at her, confused. "Seven, go, take Chakotay and Tuvok and get in an escape pod," she ordered. 

Seven looked at here levelly. "I will not comply," she said, and walked over the station behind the captain's chair. She looked over at Janeway, questioningly. "The rest of the crew has departed from _Voyager_. If we are to catch the Queen, we must pursue. Now."

Janeway looked at Chakotay helplessly. He smiled. "She spoke for me too." Janeway glanced at Tuvok, who just looked back at her impassively and returned to his station. Chakotay swung down behind the helm and pressed a few buttons quickly. Under his touch, _Voyager _leapt into transwarp.

Janeway regarded the few who had refused to leave. _Stupid, stubborn… _She sighed and resigned herself to their presence. "Tuvok, I need access to the transmitter," she said. As Tuvok worked to get her an open subspace frequency, she again looked at each of the ones who had refused to leave. Seven. Tuvok. Chakotay. _I wish to God you had left… but thank you._

* * *

At Utopia Planitia Yards above Mars, Captain Robert DeSoto was meandering aimlessly about his bridge. The _Hood _was in the middle of a major refit – hopefully, when it was finished, the old ship would be as capable as any of the new ones. _At least, that's the plan. But who knows if her engines, or her weapons, or any of it will stand up to daily use. In the meantime, I'm going stir-crazy. _

Suddenly, one of the empty stations started beeping. Curious, his tactical officer went over and tapped the button. On the main viewer an image of a woman he did not know popped up, wearing an old-style command uniform. She spoke. "Starfleet Command, this is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the _USS Voyager. _There's no time to explain our arrival here right now. Two Borg vessels have invaded Federation territory – one is disabled at Wolf 359, the other is on a direct course for Earth. _Voyager _will intercept and destroy the cube headed for Earth by any means necessary – we are equipped with a transwarp drive and can catch it before it reaches Earth. However, most of my crew is helpless at Wolf 359 and when the cube there regains power it will undoubtedly attempt to assimilate them. Any ships in range, please do what you can to see that doesn't happen. Janeway out."

DeSoto watched the message quietly. _Captain Janeway? The ship lost in the Delta Quadrant, right?_ He took no time to decide his next course of action, however. "Helm, break mooring with station keeping. Set a course for Wolf 359. Get whatever you can out of the engines."

His helmsman turned around. "Sir, the new warp drive hasn't even been field tested yet, or the new weapons and shields."

DeSoto stared the man down. "Well, then I guess we'll test them now. I'm sick and tired of sitting in spacedock and I'm not about to sit here and do nothing when those people need our help. Set the course!"

* * *

From the pilot's seat in the _Delta Flyer_, Mike Ayala had watched as _Voyager_ vanished into transwarp. Now he sat waiting. From the cockpit, he could hear B'Elanna screaming at the Doctor, cursing him, her husband, and everything else. Across from Harry, Icheb sat, examining the implant he had retrieved. He was silent, as were they all except for those in the aft compartment. 

The _Flyer _hung still, in a swarm of shuttlecraft and escape pods that contained all but four of _Voyager's _crew. Mike prayed that Captain Janeway wasn't planning to do what he suspected she was. To lose her now, so close to home, would truly be a tragedy.

Then Mike glanced at his console as a warning sensor started blinking. "What?" he muttered. From behind him, he heard Harry gasp, and he looked up through the _Flyer's _main window. Around the shuttle, escape pods were beginning to maneuver in the opposite direction. Looming ahead of them was the other remaining cube, giant gaping hole in its side from _Voyager's _torpedo, but even crippled a cube was more than enough to finish off a bunch of helpless escape pods. Ayala suddenly realized that he had more pressing things to worry about than the fate of his Captain.

Swinging the _Flyer _around in an evasive maneuver, he heard more curses from the aft compartment, as well as the Doctor screaming something about holding the shuttle steady. Ignoring the complaints – he had more pressing things to worry about than them, too – he directed the _Flyer _away from the cube.

Then, gasping, he threw the _Flyer _into a full stop. A giant shape loomed over the main window of the shuttle, swinging up around and above _Voyager's _shuttlecraft and escape pods. Ayala caught a glance of the ship's saucer section, her large secondary hull and bright blue warp nacelles as she charged forward to engage the Borg. Behind her, Mike saw several other Federation starships following in her trail, and the telltale flashes of phaser fire began to light up the screen.

Mike turned and grinned widely at Harry. Harry came down to the pilot's seat and slapped his back. "The cavalry has arrived!" he exclaimed. Together they watched as the dozen or so Federation starships laid into the already crippled Borg cube. Others dropped out of warp to join them, and it was clear that Starfleet had the advantage in this battle. Torpedoes split the void, tearing down into the cube.

"That's not why I was grinning, Harry," Mike said. He pointed at one of the starships – the first one that had brushed by the _Flyer _on her way to engage the Borg. Tapping a pair of buttons on his console, a small viewer to his and Harry's right popped up, and that ship was magnified on the viewer. She skated around the cube, quantum torpedoes and phasers punching small holes in the Borg cube. Harry pounded on Ayala's shoulder. It was the _Hood._

Together they watched as the Borg cube staggered under a constant barrage from the assembled starships. Small explosions wracked her hull, and the smaller starships got in close, firing quantum torpedoes into the giant chasm left from _Voyager's _transphasic torpedo. Harry and Ayala recognized some of them. The _Appalachia. _The _Endeavour. _The _Centaur. _The cube faltered, burning. Finally, as the starships concentrated their fire on a small section of the cube, the sides burst outwards, detonating the ship. Then the starships swung back around towards _Voyager's _wayward crew.

The _Flyer's _communications system beeped, and a woman's voice filled the cockpit. _"USS Hood__ to Federation shuttlecraft, we are bringing your people aboard. You are free to dock in our shuttlebay."_

Harry keyed in the communications. "This is the _Delta Flyer. _Acknowledged, _Hood._" Harry shrugged, and grinned. It came through in his voice. "Thanks for the assist."

_"Our pleasure, __Delta Flyer._"

* * *

Aboard the _Hood, _things were chaotic. Harry, Ayala, and Icheb were hustled to the bridge – the _Hood's _crew had been shocked, to say the least, to find _Voyager's _chief engineer, doctor, and helmsman in the back of the shuttle, fighting their way through Klingon labor, but they'd gotten over that shock quickly enough. 

Icheb recognized DeSoto, who was standing behind his helmsman. From the state of the bridge, Icheb guessed the _Hood _was in the midst of a refit but had been scrambled when Starfleet Command realized the Borg were coming. Now the _Hood_ had the entire crew of an Intrepid-class starship aboard and was racing back towards Earth. The cube was much too far ahead for the _Hood _to catch it, but it and _Voyager _were clear as day on the main viewscreen. They were exchanging fire as they closed on Earth, _Voyager _trying desperately to stop the cube, but it was clear that she wouldn't be able to with her phasers.

On the upper ring of the bridge, Icheb turned to Harry. "Ensign, I believe I have a way to stop the Queen," he said. Harry turned to him. Icheb continued, holding up the Borg implant he had retrieved. "We recovered the Queen's neural transceiver from the future. If we can re-activate it, all the data in the implant will automatically download into the present Queen, since the collective will perceive them to be from the same drone. The Queen's transceiver should have enough transmission capacity to infect the cube if we add a copy of the information cascade to the download – we might be able to short out the Queen's neural transceiver."

Harry looked up at him. "But the future Queen's neural transceiver has been damaged beyond repair by the cascade that the _Hood _triggered in the future, Icheb. I can't connect it to the collective." He stopped and his eyes widened. "But I can connect _you _to the collective. Maybe I can download the information from her transceiver into yours and use you as a carrier!"

Icheb nodded. "That was my idea," he said. Racing back to the _Flyer, _they activated the systems they'd used to infiltrate the hub at the beginning of the whole situation. Harry connected Icheb's implants to the Queen's neural transceiver and flipped the switch.

"Get her attention, Icheb. The download will take a few seconds."

* * *

On the Borg cube, the Queen had Earth in her sights. _Voyager _was a pest, raking phaser fire over the cube, but it would not be able to prevent the cube from reaching Earth. Both the cube and _Voyager_ had dropped out of transwarp – the cube's drive had failed shortly after entering the Earth solar system, but a collision at full impulse would be as deadly to the population as one at transwarp. Her invasion plans had been foiled – the transwarp hub was gone, she suspected, and she was unable to contact the collective in the Delta Quadrant, but all that could be resolved after the threat from the Federation was no more. _Janeway will pay for this. _Her eyes narrowed. 

_"Hello again, your highness," _a voice interrupted her thoughts. _"I hope I'm not causing you too much distraction," _it said. She recognized it quickly as belonging to the boy who had allowed Janeway to discover her invasion plans.

_"You have failed, Icheb. I cannot be stopped."_

_"Perhaps, your highness. But perhaps Captain Janeway has beaten you, this time. Perhaps _Voyager _had beaten you at your own game, and it was a game you did not even realize you were playing. But you will." _Suddenly, the Queen's head started throbbing. _"I have given you something, your highness. Understanding of these events. Events that you set in motion. They now end with your end," _Icheb whispered into her mind. Then his voice vanished, cut off.

Suddenly, fifteen years of memories forcefully rose to the front in the Queen's mind. _The transwarp hub being infected by a devastating pathogen. _Voyager _attacking the transwarp hub and having her hull torn open and her aft sections blown apart. Her invasion of the Federation and preparing an attack against Earth. Federation starships rallying against her forces with new weapons she couldn't adapt against. A Sovereign-class starship pursuing and damaging her sphere before her cubes destroyed it, as an Excelsior-class ship waited in the background. Losing connection with the collective. Going to the past in desperation, and having her crippled sphere defeated by _Voyager_. Death._

And then, one last insult, she heard Janeway's whispered words. _"Welcome to the past, your highness. It appears the future wasn't kind to you. I'm going to make it even worse."_ The Queen screamed in outrage, and then a small file slipped into her mind. She probed it curiously. When she did so, it triggered. Her neural transceiver failed and she collapsed to the ground, stunned. Desperate, she clawed her way to her feet. _The voices. The collective. I cannot hear them. We are the Borg, this cannot happen! _She turned to the drones that manned the cube. "Continue! Complete your task!" she ordered in a rage.

The drones surrounding her turned towards one another. Finally, one stepped forward. Their collective too, had been severed, freed from the chains the Queen held them under, and this drone just stared at her, not acting to carry out her will. It spoke. "Our designation is Lieutenant Gregory Bergan, operations officer, _USS Melbourne,_" it said. All around them, the cube began to come apart.

* * *

Above Earth, _Voyager _and the cube danced, exchanging fire, and finally there was no time left. _Voyager_ turned towards the cube, her remaining crew ready to sacrifice their lives and their ship to make sure the others would have a home to return to. _Voyager_ turned into the cube, on the final route, and the nose of the ship closed with the cube. 

When the ship was just meters from the side of the cube it detonated. A white-hot anti-matter explosion tore through space, shaking _Voyager _like a paper boat in a hurricane. Her armor tore away, sprawling out behind her as _Voyager _was nearly shattered by the blast. Hull plating fell away too and _Voyager's _engines gave out. Caught in the gravity of the planet, the ship plunged downwards towards the surface.

_Voyager _left a trail of fire as her hull superheated, burning off from the atmospheric tension. The ship left bits and pieces of debris behind as it blazed across the sky. The four people aboard were unable to stabilize her – Chakotay did his best at the helm, but the ship didn't respond as it plummeted downwards. Janeway and Chakotay clung to the helm console as _Voyager _neared the surface, staring at the viewscreen as the Earth rose up to greet them. Then _Voyager_ slammed into the ground and it all went white.


	10. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

Applause.

_What the hell?_

Janeway heard someone clapping. She turned around. _Where am I? _There didn't seem to be any dimensions, there was no depth or width to this place. There was only an expanse of nothingness. _Where's my ship? Where are Chakotay and Tuvok and Seven? _She turned around again. The applause continued, but she couldn't find the source. Finally, she looked straight up.

"Well done, Kathy. A pity it ended with _Voyager _crashing into South Dakota, but I do believe you were up to this challenge and surpassed it. I _am _impressed," said Q. For once, he wasn't wearing a Starfleet captain's uniform. He was dressed in full Q judge regalia.

Janeway sighed with impatience as Q floated down and stood eye to eye with her. "Where am I, Q? What is this place, and where are my ship and my crew?" She took a step forward. "What was all this about, anyway?"

"Oh, Kathy, don't blame me. I didn't get you into this. If you want to get really technical, your _parents _got you into this, since without them you wouldn't exist. Or, you could have avoided this whole mess by not destroying the array, back at the beginning of your trek. You could even have just agreed to have my baby, and I would have sent you home."

Janeway glared. "Q. What is going on?"

"Oh. That." Q took a step back, and was suddenly seated in a giant chair that Janeway swore hadn't been there a second before. "You see, Kathy, in about two seconds _Voyager's _viewscreen is going to explode. You and your redoubtable first officer are both in front of it, you remember, and you're both about to be killed." Q shrugged. "I'm not a big fan of that eventuality, but I can't just _make _you get out of the way. You have to do that yourself."

Janeway raised an eyebrow. "So you're giving me pre-emptive notice of my death?" she asked.

Q looked at her with a withering expression. "Kathy, all I've done the last few days is give you pre-emptive notice of your death. You actually died because I did, in one timeline. But that was a necessary sacrifice." He stood. "It has been quite interesting, watching the two timelines diverge, then converge, then diverge again. It seems only fair, since you and your crew had to give your lives to set this all in motion, that you receive a little reward now." He stared at her. "_You _have to get out of the way of the explosion that is about to occur on your bridge… but I'm going to tell you how."

Janeway looked at him inquisitively. "What was all this about, Q? Really. Was it about the Federation and the Borg, or was it about _Voyager _and her crew, or her captain… what? Why did you even get involved in the first place?"

Q just shook his head at her. "Because we _can, _Kathy. Because I like you, and the continuum likes you, and we all find the Borg so _boring._" He paused. "I once told Jean-Luc that humanity would always, _always_, be tested and be accused of being an inferior species. I've never tested you like I tested Jean-Luc. I never had to, you always found yourself in situations that served just as well. This, Kathy, was a test of humanity. If you survived, you passed." He looked at her. "Humanity has survived, although your individual survival is still in question, so I suppose it's not over yet."

"Q… I don't understand."

Q sighed. "All right, Kathy, let me put it this way. There was only one way for you and your crew to survive all this and get home." He looked at her. "The only way for you to get home alive was for you to die. Amazing, isn't it. You, quite literally, turned death into a fighting chance to live."

Janeway looked at him with something akin to understanding. "Because if my crew hadn't attacked the hub the first time, the Borg would have assimilated Earth. So there would have been no home to go home to."

"By dying, Kathy, you created a timeline where the Queen went back in time, and in that new timeline – this timeline – it was possible for you to get home alive. Your deaths in the other timeline were the only way to defeat the Borg and get your crew home in _this _timeline." Q laughed. "Amazing how these things work themselves out."

"Q?" she asked. "Did that other timeline ever happen? Did it even exist? Or was it destroyed when we changed this timeline?"

Q grinned. "Does it matter?" he asked. "You made the decision to give your life to save others, and you would have, if the Queen from the future hadn't arrived. You saw that firsthand. I told you I wanted to see how the Queen dealt with defeat, and it turns out she doesn't deal with it very well. I watched, both times. She did manage to change the timeline, although I'm sure she's not pleased with the result. You and your crew made the decision to give your lives for the people of the Federation, and you did. Because you died…" he shrugged. "You live."

Janeway shook her head. "I hate temporal paradoxes," she muttered.

"I know," Q gloated. "That's why it was the perfect test, and I didn't even have to invent it. Just fiddle a little." He shrugged. "If, in the end, my involvement allowed for the survival of humanity, well, we all have to make sacrifices." His chair began to rise. "Remember, Kathy, you haven't passed yet. Grab Chuckles and dive to the left." He looked down. "This is the second time now, Kathy, where you should have died. Maybe you should do something about that regret before fate decides to collect on what you owe." Then he was gone.

* * *

Janeway found herself staring at the main viewscreen, _Voyager _hurtling forward across the plains. Without conscious thought, she grabbed Chakotay with both arms and heaved them both down and to the left, sending them sprawling across the deck. She flung her arms over her head as Chakotay turned towards her, and then there was a dull roar and an explosion. She felt intense heat, followed by wind that howled into the bridge, and Chakotay threw himself over her.

When it was over, he helped her to her feet. The viewscreen was gone – a gaping hole in the bridge where it had once been. Looking out, she saw plains and hills in the distance. A blue sky. Clouds. She stumbled over to the captain's chair and fell into it. Beside her, Chakotay took his seat at her left.

Above them, Seven staggered to her feet, assisted by Tuvok. They stood at the bar above Janeway and Chakotay, and all four looked out of the bridge, through the gaping hole in the ship. The wind blew lightly into the bridge, a cool and welcome pressure on her face. She reached over and grabbed Chakotay's hand. "We did it," she whispered. "We got them home."

Tuvok and Seven made there way down to face them. "Captain… thank you," said Seven. Janeway released Chakotay's hand and stood. She hugged the former drone, whispering a few words in her ear before releasing her. She stared into the eyes of this woman, who just a few years ago had been nothing more than an automaton. Now she was a woman, her humanity and individuality restored.

Janeway then turned to Tuvok. "Tuvok, I'm going to hug you now," she said, smiling. He nodded stoically and she hugged him. If she didn't know better, she would have sworn he was hugging her back. Their ordeal was over, she realized. Soon he would be restored to his wife and his children. She tightened her grip on him, tears threatening.

Finally, she turned to Chakotay. She looked up at him, grinning crookedly, emotion brimming in her face. "We did it," she whispered raggedly.

"Yes," he said back. "We did." Extending her arms, she fell into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him, clinging to him, letting his strength and confidence reinvigorate her. They were _home. _Both were lit by the light peering in through the gap in the bridge. Her hair glowed in the sunlight.

She released him, reluctantly, when she heard the sound of a transporter. A woman appeared on the bridge, slim with red-blond hair. She wore the black and grey of a Starfleet uniform, so unlike their own black and red uniforms, but yet, so similar. Janeway recognized her instantly as she took a step forward. "Captain Janeway, I'm Lieutenant Lisa Neeley, tactical officer of the _Hood._ Welcome home."

Janeway smiled. "The _Hood._" she said with a smile. "It seems time _does_ have a sense of irony. You recovered my crew?"

Neeley cocked at her head at Janeway's comment, but nodded. "Yes ma'am. We recovered all your shuttlecraft and escape pods. Your crew is fine." She reached out her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain. I'm not sure what you did, or how the Borg were involved, but I'm sure we're all better off." Janeway gripped Neeley's hand gratefully. "We'll have our engineering teams evaluate _Voyager _in the next few days and see if the ship is salvageable, but that's not something you should worry about right now. We'll bring you up to the _Hood _and reunite you with your crew if you like, and then there are people in San Francisco who very much want to welcome you back to Earth."

Janeway looked up, but shook her head slowly after a second. "Lieutenant, I'll join you in a little bit. Right now, I want to spend some time on my bridge, thanking my ship. I have… much to reflect on."

Neeley nodded. "As you wish." She turned, conversed with Tuvok and Seven for a few seconds, and then the three of them beamed up to the _Hood. _Janeway turned to Chakotay.

"Come with me," she whispered. She led him to the front of the bridge, in front of the conn, and brought him down to sit with her in the sunlight. "I realized something, as we crashed here on Earth," she said. "I found my personal logs, aboard that other _Voyager, _from after most of the crew died. I realized that there was one thing I regretted when I died then, and if I'd died today, I would have died still regretting it." She sighed. "In the end, Tuvok was right, I made the decision I had to make," she reached out and took his hand again, "but I regretted it then and have ever since."

Chakotay tightened his grip on her hands. "What do you regret, Kathryn?" he asked.

She shook her head, looking out over the plains, then turned back. "I want to tell you a story, Chakotay. It's about a woman, a leader, who was lost in a wood. She had known peace, once when she was young, but when she was made leader that peace was lost to her. Fate saw fit to give her a guide, a warrior who stayed by her side and helped her stay on the proper path. He gave her the strength she needed to always do what was right, even when it was hard. The leader had no promises she could offer the warrior, except that someday she would get them both out of the wood. One day, with him by her side, and with his strength guiding her, she took a leap of faith and, at the end of it, found herself home, back in the place where she had began."

She looked up at him and held up her hand. He laced his fingers through hers, tightening his grip. "After it was done, the leader was thankful for all that the warrior had done for her, for the faith he had shown in her, and for his wisdom which tempered her own rage. She looked back on their path with greater clarity, and recognized that it had been necessary for her to save her people and herself."

"Finally, she turned to her guide, her warrior, and asked if maybe, now that the journey had ended, if he could help her find the peace that she still missed in her heart." Janeway looked at Chakotay. "All that happened had to happen, Chakotay. I would do it again. Now my life is my own again and I hope that, maybe, you'll help me find the peace in my heart that I once helped you find in yours," she whispered. "No more regrets."

Chakotay released the grip on her hand and gathered her up in his arms. "Of course, Kathryn." They looked out from their bridge onto ground that belonged to Earth. Chakotay murmured to her, "Now we can choose our own path, instead of living the life that fate decided for us."

Janeway let him cradle her head under his, ensconcing herself in his arms. She just looked out onto the planet that had been her only goal for the last seven years, held by the man who had helped keep her on the path that had led them back here, and let all her worries go.

* * *

Hours later, Janeway and Chakotay were sitting on the grass under the shade produced by _Voyager_. They spoke very little, preferring to spend their time appreciating what it meant to be on Earth. There was much they would have to do in the days and hours to come and right now, in this place, they had found their peace.

Looking across the plains, they saw two figures walking towards them. Slowly, they resolved wearing the grey-on-black Starfleet uniforms, and Janeway recognized them both. She stood, and reached over to help Chakotay stand.

The one wearing a red shirt under his jacket spoke first. "Captain Janeway, Commander Chakotay, I'm Captain Robert DeSoto of the _USS Hood_. I believe you have already met my tactical officer, Lieutenant Neeley." He extended his hand to her, and she shook it.

Janeway looked up to catch his eyes. "Thank you, Captain. For more than just rescuing my crew. You and your crew made it possible for _Voyager _to get home," she said. DeSoto looked at her oddly.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I can't tell you," Janeway smiled broadly. "Temporal prime directive." She released DeSoto's hand and winked at him. "Ask me again sometime," she said. DeSoto raised his eyebrows, but he nodded. Then he looked up towards the sky.

"Here comes your crew, Captain," he said, raising a finger to point up towards the drifting clouds.

From them descended a shuttlecraft. Janeway recognized it instantly – there was only one_ Delta Flyer_ – and it set down next to _Voyager. _From it emerged men and women she knew. Harry Kim. Rose Jenkins. Tal Celes. Mike Ayala. Jenny Delaney. Kashimuro Nozawa. Then other shuttlecraft started descending from the sky, and men and women started appearing via transporter. Kyoto. Baxter. Gerron. Molina. Baytart. Jor. Gilmore. McKenzie. Lang. Dalby. Dozens more. DeSoto grinned as they closed around their captain and he and Neeley took a few steps back.

Janeway found herself in a whirlwind of people, excited, ecstatic, and enthusiastic. She had never hugged her crew, with a few notable exceptions, but now she found herself giving them away freely. Beside her Chakotay lifted Naomi Wildman off the ground and pointed up at _Voyager, _the ship still lodged in the ground, and then down at the earth. "You were born there, Naomi," he said. "But you were always coming here. Now you too have a chance to do what you want with your life."

Naomi clutched his neck. "Commander?" she asked. "What if I want to go back on _Voyager?_" Chakotay smiled, said nothing, and just held the girl for a little longer. Icheb joined them and Janeway hugged him too.

He told her about the Queen, how he and Harry had separated her from the collective, and Janeway smiled at him. "If it were up to me, Icheb," she said, "I would make you a full crewman right now. Maybe even an ensign." She laughed. "Who needs the academy, anyway?"

There was one man here who she didn't immediately recognize as a member of her crew, but she thought he was familiar anyway. When he saw her, he immediately made his way over and extended his hand. "Captain Janeway, I don't know if you remember me, but…"

Janeway cut him off. "Jake Sisko, Commander Sisko's son. We met seven years ago, when _Voyager _was docked at Deep Space Nine before leaving for the Badlands." She smiled. "What can I do for you, Jake? And how'd you get here, anyway?"

He grinned. "_Voyager's _return wasn't exactly quiet, Captain. Between your frantic distress call, the second battle of Wolf 359, the dramatic explosion of a Borg cube over Earth, and _Voyager _blazing through the sky over Chicago, your return has been very well documented. I think every news service has picked up on the story by now and it's one hell of a story." He grinned. "I'm a writer, ma'am, and I work for the FNS. Since my father's in the service, and we had met before you left…"

"You used your connections to be first on the scene," Janeway said. Jake laughed.

"Yes ma'am. I hope you don't mind."

"I remember you, Mr. Sisko. In fact I was thinking of you and your father just the other day. Promise to use discretion about what should become public knowledge and what shouldn't, and you've got an exclusive on _Voyager's _crew," Janeway said, smiling at the young man she had met seven years earlier just before _Voyager _had been snatched away.

"Thank you, ma'am!" Jake grinned. "I'll leave you alone and go mingle" He shook her hand and faded into the crowd of crewmen.

Behind her, the Doctor came forward. She embraced him, too, and promised him that even though _Voyager _was home, and he might not be her Doctor anymore, that she'd always be there if he needed her. Then she asked him if he might want to have coffee and brunch in San Francisco the next time they were both there. He smiled happily and thanked her. Janeway let him go, and watched as he wandered over to Seven, who was conversing with Tuvok. When he neared them, Seven excused herself and turned to him. Janeway watched with a smile as they wandered off in the general direction of the hills in the distance, talking.

Finally, two more people came up to her. Tom Paris didn't even give her a chance to say no, he just lifted her off the ground and spun her around once before putting her down. "Thank you, Captain. For everything," he said. From beside her, a gurgle drew her attention, and she turned to B'Elanna, standing next to him. In her arms, she held a tiny little girl. Next to her, Tom reached over and grabbed a tiny finger. "Captain, meet the newest daughter of _Voyager. _Miral Kathryn Paris." She barely noticed as Chakotay wrapped an arm around her from behind as she too reached in to hold the tiny hand of her newest crewmember.

"Hello there," she said. "Welcome home."


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The crew of _Voyager, _the Pathfinder Project, and their families were gathered on the largest open ground at Starfleet Academy to celebrate the return of the ship and her crew just three days before. On the podium, Owen Paris was giving a speech about something, although Kathryn wasn't paying all that much attention. On the collar of her new gray-on-black uniform she wore the rank of an Admiral, but she didn't pay much attention to that either. To her left sat Chakotay, surreptitiously resting his hand on her leg under the table. On her right was Tuvok. Surrounding them was her senior staff. Tom, B'Elanna, and Miral. _Lieutenant _Kim. The Doctor and Seven. Even Reg Barclay. She wished Neelix and Kes could have been there, just for a little while, to celebrate their victory with them, but she was sure they were happy where they were.

Finally, Owen reached the closing of his speech, and Kathryn perked up to listen. "Here today, we have what may be the finest crew ever to wear the uniform. You had one mission all these years – to find your way home. No matter what the odds, _Voyager _always found a way to beat them and, today, you have beaten the greatest of odds and accomplished what no other crew could have accomplished. I give you a toast: 'To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.' Never to yield. I give you _Voyager._"

Shortly afterwards, Kathryn and Chakotay had snuck away from the reception and found themselves a quiet place on the campus grounds where they could sit and contemplate what had become of their lives. Chakotay gazed at her. "Tennyson, his _Ulysses_," he said quietly. "That's what Admiral Paris quoted."

Kathryn looked over with a pensive look on her face. "I thought you didn't read much pre-Federation European literature," she said. He shushed her.

"I read Tennyson after I first discovered _Voyager's _motto. I remember Ulysses well – the great warrior who had gone all the way to Troy to fight in the Trojan War. Despite great odds and evils that opposed him, despite being toyed with by gods and by men, he finally returned to the land of his birth. But he found no peace there – he had seen too much, done too much, to ever find peace in Ithaca. So the aged man left again, looking for adventure, and never returned." He glanced sideways at her. "Like Jim Kirk."

Kathryn turned to face him. "Odysseus got home alone, without any of his crew," she murmured. "I'm glad I'm not him. And I'm not Kirk either, no matter what Q says." She paused, thinking. "Owen was wrong, you know. Tennyson isn't the right man to describe _Voyager _and her crew." She pressed her forehead against his. "This isn't Tennyson's _Ulysses,_" she whispered. "I yield." And she kissed him.


	12. Author's Notes

**Author's Notes (4/3/08)**

I have added a new short story taking place in the _Ulysses _universe, "The Needs of the Many."

I would like to mention that I have developed a plot for a two-part story I would call _The Kraken_, following in my tradition of naming stories in this universe after works by Alfred Tennyson. It would essentially be my version of _Nemesis_ in that the Romulans would be very involved… but unlike _Ulysses, _I don't plan on borrowing any plot elements. At least not from _Nemesis._

**Author's Notes (7/23/07)  
**

I want to thank everyone who has reviewed _Ulysses. _I had never written fiction of any kind before I wrote this story and I'm absolutely thrilled that people like it as much as they have (and that I wrote it at all!) For many years, stories have popped in and out of my head – what ifs – but I never wrote them down before _Ulysses _and now the unrelated story _Wayward Sons. Ulysses _was written as my own "this is what I would have liked to have seen" for the end of Voyager – I wrote it more for my own sake than anyone else's. Still, many of your comments made me plain giddy. I think _Ulysses _is great and I'm pleased that others do as well. Now, to address any questions:

Moocow asked: "One quick thing is that why did the future have Transwarp instead of Quantum Slipstream, you would've thought that the debrief would be included in the last Pathfinder project and they would just buff up their computers and use that instead of recycling a repolished warpdrive."

I spent a good ten minutes contemplating this very question. I decided on Transwarp for a number of reasons. First, while _Voyager _sort of got Quantum Slipstream to work, they never got it right because of the lack of computing power. Second, Slipstream required building a whole new engine while Transwarp just took the installation of a single transwarp coil – when you're in the process of preparing to fight a war or fighting the war, you're going to go with the path of least resistance and Transwarp is just more practical, especially when you've already got a background in the engine technology (the failed "Great Experiment" with the Excelsior). Finally, even if Starfleet couldn't get either of the drive technologies to work, they were fighting the Borg and would undoubtedly find a way to salvage some components during the course of the conflict. Were all things ideal, they would have gone with Slipstream, but Transwarp was just more practical all the way around. That, and I was trying to limit the amount of technology that I used – the story had enough technobabble as it was.

**Desiring that Diviner Day**

The sequel to _Ulysses_. It's up in its entirety now.


	13. The Needs of the Many

Summary: This short story would, if placed into the whole of the story of _Ulysses, _probably be the prologue – it tells the story of the Icheb who allowed himself to be assimilated. It is the first of several short stories taking place in the future-that-will-now-never-be that have been bothering me ever since I finished _Ulysses_. I may write others – I have one in mind that would introduce a completely new character who would play a significant role in another, longer story I have in mind.

Oh, and for those who are interested, I've updated my Author's Notes, including notes on a potential second sequel to _Ulysses_.

**The Needs of the Many**

Icheb was dying.

This was unsurprising, and it did not deter the young man. He had known, from the moment he had voiced the possibility of this mission that his life was forfeit. The instant that he had departed _Voyager's _shuttlebay in the _Tereshkova _he had died. One way or the other, he was not going to get out of this alive.

The Borg might have detected the _Tereshkova _and decided to destroy it before he got to the hub. Or a cube guarding the hub might have assimilated him – either way, his mission to infect the hub would have failed. If not then, then he would be assimilated when he arrived aboard the hub - that was, after all, his mission. Assimilation would not have killed him, per se, but once his virus infected the hub and the Queen realized he was responsible, he would undoubtedly have been executed. At the very least, he would be killed when _Voyager _arrived to destroy the hub after his assimilation.

In the end, the mission had gone according to plan. He'd arrived on the hub and been assimilated, and now the hub was dying. He still had hope that he would be incinerated when _Voyager _struck, instead of dying by any other method. That would mean the mission had succeeded. Regardless, Icheb was going to die, and it was by a method he had not anticipated – one he had not even suspected was possible.

He was dying of the very virus built into his genetic code – the very virus he had allowed himself to be assimilated in order to infect the hub with.

He recognized the symptoms from the last time he'd been a drone. Loss of motor function was the first sign, but it would quickly be followed by a complete shutdown of his higher brain functions. The Doctor's tampering with the virus in order to make it more virulent had been almost too effective – the virus had not infected him the last time he'd been assimilated – but as he watched, the drones which ambled around the hub, the drones which had just finished implanting new Borg implants to remove the ones the Doctor had so painstakingly removed – were starting to die.

It was poetic justice, he supposed, that he would die along with them this time.

In his mind he reflected on his existence. His parents would be proud, he assumed, that their creation had been used to achieve their mission for him – and that their mission had been more successful than either of them could ever have imagined possible. His crewmen would mourn his passing – assuming any of them survived – as one of their own, a fellow son of _Voyager. _

The Alpha Quadrant, for which he had given his life, would never know what he had done, the price he had paid – _Voyager_ would pay – for their futures. _The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one._

Icheb rested, lying on the floor with his back propped up against a Borg alcove. The whole place was glowing a sickly green, pierced by the red of Borg eye implants. Through his connection to the collective, he could hear the mind wailing as the voices blinked out of existence, one after another. The many were becoming fewer – but they still were many, and he heard their urgency as uninfected drones on the Borg cubes raced to render aid to the transwarp hub, rendered quite defenseless by his sacrifice.

They failed.

Their urgency redoubled, and suddenly he felt a prodding in his mind that signified an order to go to tactical awareness and prepare for combat. The hub around him whirred to life and he watched as the inactive drones opened their eyes and emerged from their alcoves. Each of them struggled to take steps forward. Some fell, sliding down until their sides hit against the floor. Others didn't move at all, their minds having been eradicated by the virus. If it hadn't been so horrifying it would have been almost comical, watching the tainted drones try to follow orders they were mentally and physically incapable of completing.

The hub began to shake and burn. _Voyager _had slipped through the cubes into weapons range before she was detected and was now blasting away with every weapon she had. One drone that had managed to stay on his feet was knocked to the floor by a blast as something in one of the walls exploded.

_Transwarp Hub 005 has been compromised. Prepare to alter…_

_All cubes in vicinity of Transwarp Hub 005 abort current task…_

_Target is confirmed. Engage in conventional transit to Sector 001…_

_Sector 001 will be neutralized. All technological distinctiveness…_

Icheb's crippled body struggled to move in response to the information given him by his yet undamaged mind. It wasn't over – Captain Janeway and Seven had assumed that the Queen would abort the invasion of the Federation entirely once the hub was lost. The Queen, it seemed, was dedicated to her mission to annihilate the Federation.

Once _Voyager _was gone, there would be no way to tell Starfleet. No way to warn them that the Borg were coming. _I have to tell Captain Janeway. She needs to know!_

Icheb wrestled himself to his feet. _A computer. I need an access terminal. _Borg vessels were replete with such things and, across the hall attached to an alcove, there was a terminal like the one he needed.

He struggled to take steps. He slipped down to his knees after one as his crippled body refused to follow his instructions. Crawling, he used his arms to pull himself across the darkened floor. On either side of him, drones were going through severe muscle spasms and contortions. He had to hurry – that would shortly be his own state.

His arm extended, he felt his hand rest against something solid. Straining, he looked up to see the wall. Above was the panel. Digging his nails into the paneling, he reached upwards towards the console, but he was too weak. One of his fingernails broke off, lodged in the wall, and Icheb slid back down to the floor.

Determined, he started again, straining inch by inch to reach the panel, but he could not. He was too weak, lying here, and he knew that all his efforts had been in vain. Without preparation, the Federation would die anyway, and all his death had done was buy another few years. _We have failed. I have failed._

One last, valiant effort, Icheb hurled the last of his strength upwards towards the console. To his astonishment, his body began to rise from the floor. First to one knee, then upright. He reached out his hands to the panel. His fingers were shaking horribly, vibrating back and forth, but as he rested them on the console they settled. He began to work quickly, composing a message to Captain Janeway. He hoped _Voyager _would survive this assault, receive the message, and relay it back to the Alpha Quadrant so that some good would come out of all of this – so that no other parents would feel to need to create children for the sole purpose of their suicide.

His eyes shuttered closed as his fingers worked. Finally, he opened them to find the button that would send the final warning.

As they fluttered open, he gazed upon his own implant-covered hands. Resting on his hand was that of another person – guiding his fingers to the buttons, hoisting him to his feet. The hand led to an arm, clad in black, and upwards towards red shoulders and four pips that Icheb knew this man had never earned.

"Q…" he breathed out raggedly. "What…?"

The young man in the captain's uniform gazed at him mournfully. "I thought I told you I _didn't _want you assimilated, Itchy," he said.

"No… no choice," Icheb wheezed. He looked at his friend. There was no guarantee that Captain Janeway would receive this desperate message, and even less of a guarantee that _Voyager _would survive their own insane assault on the hub to relay it back to Starfleet Command. "Q… you and your father… you can tell Starfleet… save _Voyager_… the Federation…"

Q smiled sadly. Hefting both arms under Icheb's prone body, he helped him back down to the floor, propping him back up. He watched for a second as the virus finally overwhelmed Icheb's body. Icheb's mind would follow in a matter of minutes. Q turned away, closing his eyes. Much too quietly for Icheb to hear he whispered, "We already have. _You_ already have."


	14. Acceptable Losses

Summary: This short story takes place during the first Interlude, during the Federation attack on the transwarp hub.

Author's Notes: This has been written for one very specific reason: to introduce a new character, one who might feature in my still-in-the-drawing-phases "The Kraken." She definitely would feature in a potential story following "The Kraken," but that's getting ahead of myself. When I eventually _do _start posting "The Kraken," it'll probably be in the TNG section, not the VOY section.

**Acceptable Losses**

Lisa Neeley hated the Borg. Hated them with a passion that she once reserved for the Jem'Hadar and (especially) the Vorta. But the Jem'Hadar had a code of honor, of loyalty, that they followed. The Jem'Hadar did not steal your soul if you lost. The Jem'Hadar did not turn you against your closest allies, you friends. The Jem'Hadar did not steal the deepest secrets of your mind.

Lisa Neeley hated the Borg.

Her phaser rifle was a comforting presence, her dominant, right hand resting carefully at the base of the customized compression rifle, her forefinger curled around the trigger. Her left hand gripped the barrel, controlling the aim, and the light resting atop the barrel lit up the darkened corridor.

Five quick steps. Stop. Behind her left shoulder she felt the comforting presence of Commander James Barnaby, her second – chief tactical officer of the now-destroyed USS _Indefatigable. _The _Indefatigable_ had been lost in the opening moments of the engagement over the regrettably named Galahad Point, caught almost immediately in a devastating crossfire that left the Sovereign-class _Indefatigable _crippled. She had, however, broken a hole in the Borg defenses that allowed Neeley to get her team down onto the hub, within striking distance of the all-important central plexus.

There were ten other men and women behind him – veteran soldiers. The best of the best of the ships that had been sent to destroy Galahad Point's transwarp hub. Each of them gripped customized weapons of their choosing. Mostly phaser compression rifles, although Barnaby himself held an older type-3 model, the same kind Neeley herself had used during the Dominion War. Most of her men carried hand-to-hand weapons – a few Klingon swords of varying sizes. A Jem'Hadar kar'takin. Two of the rifles had bayonets attached, just in case.

There were no words exchanged between them, Neeley's expert hand motions directing the team forward. On the small screen, affixed in front of her left eye by a metal band that curled around her ear, she tracked the motion of the team's scout down the corridors. They'd avoided confrontation as of yet, but that would not last. The Borg had long since learned to see through the bio-dampener technology that had been so effective at hiding soldiers from their sensors in the past.

On the small screen, the green dot that signaled the position of the scout stopped. For an instant, it bounced around the small corridor ahead and Neeley knew that the scout had been compromised. With a single gesture she set her team in motion, quick but quiet footsteps clinking along the Borg-style metal floor plating, the only light in the room from her team's weapons and the sickly green and red glows of Borg control panels.

She spun into the corridor, her rifle pointing down towards where the green dot had stopped moving. Her team filed in behind her, weapons bristling with restrained firepower.

At the end of the corridor, Commander Reginleif Doran straightened up. Her rifle, also a customized compression rifle, was tightly attached to her back on a diagonal. In her hands she held a long, mean-looking sword.

Four Borg drones, and components that had once belonged to those drones, littered the floor at her feet.

"Come _on, _Lisa," she hissed, and then Doran was gone down the corridor, her feet almost as silent as they were swift. Neeley waved her men forwards. Ahead of her, Doran's uniform seemed to slip in and out of the shadows as the expert commando, veteran of far worse than even Neeley had known, dispatched the solo drones with little more than a slash and a cut.

Borg drones didn't do ranged combat.

Reginleif Doran much preferred melee anyway.

Neeley saw little more than an echo of her long-time friend, only a flash of short black hair, or the soft glint of her blade. Finally, on the viewer positioned in front of her left eye, the green dot stopped moving altogether, coming to a dead stop down the first corridor that each of them had known without a doubt would be… a nuisance.

"Now it gets interesting," Doran whispered as the team took up positions around her. Neeley nodded, but she didn't bother to respond with words. Reaching down to her belt, she loosed a pair of grenades and motioned the rest of the team to take cover. Barnaby, gripping both handles of his type-3 rifle, pushed his back up against the side of the opening.

Neeley pulled back and whipped both grenades down the corridor. One flashed, a powerful blast of energy that probably wouldn't knock out the drones, but should disorient them. The second was pure explosive power.

Barnaby was the first in, his phaser firing in short, expert bursts as he tracked from drone to drone. Doran followed him, staying in his shadow – her phaser had miraculously appeared in her hands, the sword carefully sheathed across her back – she targeted the drones next to computer consoles. Anything to slow down the security response.

The alarms sounding went unheeded by the platoon of Starfleet officers as they swept like waves down the corridor, phaser bursts catching each drone as it activated. Short bursts of sound signified grenades as other members of Neeley's team tossed them into groups of drones and down corridors.

The alarms continued, but the short bursts of sound that came from phasers stopped shortly after the grenades did. Doran didn't wait, her feet effortlessly carrying her down the path they had decided upon, headed towards the next problem corridor. Again she had switched weapons – despite having known her for almost a decade, Neeley was still astonished at her ability to move without being noticed, almost as if she were a shadow. Silent. There one moment, gone the next.

Effortless.

Effortlessly lethal, too.

Neeley's team pulled up as more drones started to file in to stop their advance towards the plexus. Phaser bursts lashed out – controlled, short bursts. Maximize time before the drones adapted enough to slow them down, although Reg had assured her they would never adapt entirely.

They reached and passed a second spot they had known would be trouble. That cost them Lieutenant (J.G.) Jack Carter. At only twenty-three years of age, he'd been eight when the Borg invaded. Young. Smart. Wise beyond his years. That's why Neeley had picked him.

Dead now. A crippled drone, stopped up in an alcove had been more dangerous than it appeared to be. Simple mistake.

Neeley would mourn later.

They lost three more in the next two minutes, but the team didn't slow down. Their footsteps weren't as quiet anymore – no real need to worry about getting detected – although Doran was as silent as ever.

Still leading, Doran's quiet footsteps carried her into a four way corridor they had to pass through to get to the plexus. The corridor beyond was their last trouble spot. _The _trouble spot. They were getting close to the plexus.

In the junction between the corridors, Neeley suddenly saw an explosion of movement. Doran's sword flashed three times, then she stepped carefully forward, not bothering to look back. Neeley passed through behind her, stepping over the drone Doran had sliced neatly in half. The remains of two others were strewn on both the left and the right.

Phasers firing, the officers abandoned silence as they advanced slowly down the corridor, their advance slowed to a halt against a sudden storm of drones, marching forward against Neeley's team. The eight remaining officers shouldered their phasers, the bursts lancing down the corridor against the swarm of Borg drones.

Neeley's combadge chattered. _"DeSoto to Neeley. We can't hold the Borg off for much longer. How long until you reach the target?"_ DeSoto's voice was surprisingly steady.

Neeley responded quickly, breathlessly, an edge creeping into her tone as she slid her back against one of the walls, putting herself out of the combat for just an instant. "We're fighting our way through these drones one at a time, Admiral, but they're more resistant to the new phaser calibrations than they were back in the Alpha Quadrant." Neeley paused as she saw two drones come from the back, homing in towards the unsuspecting Commander Barnaby. Her rifle dropped smoothly into her hands and she fired twice, expertly. Both died. "You've got to give us another ten minutes, sir." God, she hoped it wouldn't take ten minutes.

"_Acknowledged, Commander. Hurry, Lisa, we're down to six ships."_

Six ships. That meant twenty-five ships were gone. _Mourn later, Lisa. Later. _"Yes, sir. Neeley out." She terminated the communication and flung herself back into the fray wholeheartedly. For a fraction of a second, she contemplated yelling something to kick her team into motion. She disregarded the thought immediately. They all knew what was at stake.

Reginleif had lost her phaser rifle somewhere in the fray. How she'd lost it, Neeley didn't really want to know, but Doran had gone back to using her sword. Quick slashes, thrusts, Drones died ahead of her as she fought towards the door, the rest of the team backing her up with expert phaser fire.

Doran ducked and Neeley put a phaser blast through the space her head had been an instant before, taking out a drone that Doran hadn't been able to move fast enough to get to.

The tide of drones stopped as it sputtered, dead on the ground. Doran disappeared down the next doorway, and on Neeley's screen a mass of red dots blinked into existence at the end of the long corridor. A wall of drones, blocking the entrance to the central plexus.

Doran appeared in front of Neeley. "We don't have time for this," she said. Without asking for a response, she dropped to her knees, reaching to a pack she'd grabbed after Jack Carter had died. Demolitions. She pulled out a bomb – trilithium. Very, very dangerous. Also very, very illegal. Neeley hovered over her as she set the timer to five seconds.

"What are you planning on doing with that, Commander?" Neeley asked formally.

"Blowing up Borg," Reginleif responded, offhand.

"On a five second timer?" Neeley asked. "Doesn't give them time to disarm it, but it doesn't give you time to get it to them. You're talking a big blast radius with that thing."

"I'm going to take it to them," her friend responded. Neeley froze. Reginleif looked up. "I've been planning this since we got the mission plan. We knew we'd get stopped up here, Lisa. We _knew _we would. So here's a better alternative than your absurd grenade plan."

Neeley shook her head slowly. She blinked twice. "Reginleif…"

Doran laughed shortly. "You know the big problem I always had with the Federation? With Starfleet? None of you ever understood the concept of acceptable losses." She paused, blue eyes cold in the relative darkness of the Borg-designed corridor. For an instant, Neeley saw something other than cold determination. "Tell him I'm sorry," Reginleif murmured.

Then she was gone, the motion so quick – so like her – that Neeley almost didn't register her absence until she was missing. Neeley paused for an instant, then turned to her team. She held up a hand, fingers out, and flashed it twice. Ten seconds.

_Mourn later, Lisa. Later._


End file.
